


Ever After - A Miraculous AU

by shelbyecanwrite



Category: Ella Enchanted (2004), Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Ella Enchanted AU, F/M, Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction, shelbyecanwrite, so many characters so little time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-05-30 10:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 68,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15095000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelbyecanwrite/pseuds/shelbyecanwrite
Summary: As a baby, Marinette receives a visit from Plagg, her fairy godfather, and is bestowed with a magical talent that requires her to obey anything that she is told to do. This proves to be more of a curse than a blessing, particularly once her mother dies and she is forced to live with the horrible Dame Mendeliev and her two cruel daughters, Chloe and Sabrina. Eventually, Marinette embarks on a journey to find Plagg and break the spell, accompanied by the feisty elf named Alya, her fairy friend Tikki's book of a boyfriend Wayzz and the handsome Prince Adrien who is far more interesting than Marinette is willing to admit. Will Marinette break the curse or is Happily Ever After just too far out of reach?Ive had this idea rolling around in my head for a long time and so I decided to finally act on it. Heres my crossover attempt - Ella Enchanted and Miraculous Ladybug. I plan on posting the chapters I write as I have them edited by my roommate and then the illustrations afterwards as I finish them. I hope you like this as much as I do and that I can get it all sorted out and squared away. HERE WE GO.Updates on Tuesdays and Thursdays





	1. Prologue

_Fairy tales tell, as their labels imply, stories of magic, of creatures that fly._  
_With giants and dragons and ogres and elves, and inanimate objects that speak for themselves._  
_There's romance and danger and plotting of schemes._  
_There's good guys and bad guys and some guys in between._  
_A fairy tale also reveals some sort of truth, the perils of choices we face in our youth._  
_But our story today is different in theme, for our hero had no choice, or so it would seem._  
_It starts with a fairy bestowing a spell._  
_This one's for a baby named Marinette of Frell._

The people of Frell were a quiet set, never knowing much danger or any type of turmoil beside the odd burglary or escaped cow that could be seen wandering the dirt roads of the village from time to time. In the small village of Frell lived a nobleman, his wife, their house fairy and their newest bundle of joy, a little girl named Marinette. Sir Dupain and Lady Cheng couldn’t have been more excited or pleased with their new baby. She had blue-bell-colored eyes, hair as blue as any midnight and by all accounts was as normal as could be, sleeping most of the day, crying when she was upset and being a genuine child.

From up in her attic bedroom, Lady Sabine Cheng fawned over her three-month-old daughter with the help of their house fairy, an young woman named Tikki who had been with the household for as long as Marinette would ever remember. They were happy and everything was going as perfectly as it could. That was until the day Marinette’s gift was to be bestowed.

“Now, now, Marinette.” the young mother crooned as she drooped to pick up her young crying daughter from her crib, smoothing her soft black baby curls away from her forehead to press a kiss, “There now. Mother’s here for you.”

From the window where she was mending the baby’s blanket, Tikki giggled, her bright red hair buns bobbing along with her shoulders as she listened to Marinette cry. She was going to be a feisty one, that was sure, because her lungs knew no capacity for sound. In her mother’s arms, Marinette still cried, oblivious to their attempts to calm her.

“Oh, here.” Tikki set aside her mending and rubbed her hands together, scooting her body to face towards the baby changing station. “Nothing a little burping won’t fix!”

Like a maestro on the stage ready to start their show, Tikki flicked her wrists at the burp up rag, a sprinkle of fairy dust flying from her hands to land on the rag. It hovered only slightly in the air above where it had been sitting and Tikki let out an annoyed sigh, “All the way!”

Sensing her distress, the rag obeyed and danced its way through the air and over the hardwood floors to rest in Tikki’s hands. She wrung it tightly as its punishment before holding it out to Lady Sabine. “I gotta work on that.”

Sir Tom Dupain was away that day when the thunder shook the house and a silky voice called through the air, sending shivers down the women’s spines. “Hello ladies.”

They looked at one another and immediately knew who had come to bestow the child’s gift and it terrified them to the bone.

“Plagg.”

Tikki raked her hands through her red hair, looking around frantically. “He gives the worst gifts!”

Lady Sabine took a split second to consider her daughter who had gone quiet in her arms before her gaze hardened. She looked back at her friend. “Not if he cant find her.”

Tikki blinked in surprise before nodding. Together the two women went about hiding Marinette in the closet of her room and away from the intrusive eye of the coming intruder.

Green smoke hissed through the dirty window panes of the upper floor before solidifying into a cocky looking African American young man with solid green eyes and slit pupils like a cat’s. He was wearing a black vest and silky looking pants that were tucked into black boots. He had the airs of someone much higher than his current position and bowed to them, probably out of sheer habit more than actual formality.

“Plagg, fairy par excellence,” he crooned. At her side, Lady Sabine could feel Tikki cringe as the male fairy winked at her before he stood up straight, turning in a slow circle as he considered the attic room. “Now… where’s the little brat.”

Tikki glanced at Lady Sabine who’s face was set as stone and she could only pray that they were thinking the same thing.

“She’s out walking,” Tikki blurted.

“At her grandmothers,” Lady Sabine replied at the same time in clear contradiction.

From where he stood looking at them, Plagg raised a smooth eyebrow in mild confusion. The women tried to correct themselves in a hurry.

“At her grandmother’s?” Tikki repeated while Lady Sabine said, “Out for a walk.”

“Shes walking at her grandmothers!” Tikki said cheerfully, her hands tangled into her apron from where they had been clenched too tightly. Lady Sabine laid a gentle hand on her arm. “Either way, as you can see, she’s not here.”

From behind them, the closet let out a sharp and pitiful cry. Plagg leaned to one side, glancing at the secret the two women were trying to hide before side stepping them both. In one fluid motion, throwing open the bedroom’s lone closet to reveal baby Marinette laid atop a stack of clean baby clothes. He glanced back at the two women who had tried and failed to hide her away from him. “Oh, look. She’s back.”

He gently lifted up the blue-eyed, freckled child and considered her carefully within the cradle of his arms. “Alright. What gift shall we give this little one today?”

He looked back where Lady Sabine and Tikki stood. “Whats her name again?”

“Marinette,” Her mother replied, her hand grasping Tikki’s tightly as she watched the fairy hold her only daughter.

In his arms, Marinette had started to squirm and cry, obviously not pleased with this stranger who was holding her. Plagg’s nose wrinkled as he looked down at her angry and pudgy face. “Stop that. I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

His growling only made it worse as she wailed and thrashed, hoping to get free of his arms and back to the familiar scent of her mother.

“I said stop that!” Plan snapped, but still Marinette continued on wailing. The fairy’s mouth formed a hard line. Keeping the baby in one arm, he raised his hand. There was a vacuum-like feeling as magic formed in the palm of his hand like a small black hole before he crushed it in his grip, the magic sparking off his finger tips as he held it out towards the now mesmerized baby.

“Marinette of Frell.” Plagg hissed, “I give you the gift of obedience.”

He pressed his pointer finger into the young girl’s forehead, a hiss of green smoke coming from his finger tips before it all faded away, leaving Lady Sabine and Tikki rigid with terror at what he had done to the innocent child.

Plagg held the child up, wrapped in her blanket like a little bundle, considering her once again as if he was in doubt of whether or not his gift had actually taken hold.

“Go to sleep,” he growled. Immediately, the baby’s eyes fluttered shut on command. Behind him, Lady Sabine stifled a horrified gasp at what he had done to her daughter.

“Wake up.” Again, Marinette obeyed and her eyes opened, big and blue staring down at the fairy with wide curiosity. Plagg smirked, pleased with his work and rested Marinette back in his arms before turning on the two women who stood aghast behind him. “Well isn’t that wonderful.”

“No, its not, its terrible!” Lady Sabine cried, her hands gripped against her chest where her heart beat erratically beneath her skin.

“It’s a terrible gift to have to do whatever you’re told, Plagg, now take it back!” Tikki seethed, closing the distance between herself and the other fairy, her hands clinched tightly at her sides as they stared one another down.

Plagg, however, was hardly deterred as he laid Marinette back down in her crib. “Sorry, I don’t do take backs. And if you’re not going to be appreciative of what I’ve given you…”

His smile turned wicked as he looked spitefully back at Tikki, the expression scrunching his eyes into sharp green chips of sinister pleasure. “I could always turn her into a piece of Camembert instead. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

Lady Sabine gripped Tikki’s hand in a vice as she choked out a desperate cry, “Camembert!”

Tikki waved her free hand at Plagg, forcing a grateful smile on her pale face, “No, no! Obedience is a… lovely gift.”

Plagg rested one hand on the edge of the crib and Lady Sabine couldn’t help but think of a predator who looked like he had cornered a rather tasty looking baby animal. “Besides, you should thank me.”

He looked down at Marinette in her crib one more time, a spark of mischief in his eye. “I’ve just given you the perfect child.”

###

_In spite of the spell, Marinette grew up strong of mind._  
_Her gift made her obedient, but her heart made her kind._

Marinette had faced her fair amount of trials when it came to passing off as a normal child when your gift made her anything but. There had been incidents from the time she was little involving the terms and conditions that came from obeying every command given. When she was in primary school, she bit a girl who made the mistake of saying ‘Bite Me.’ Later, at one of her own birthday parties, she had mutilated the cake that Tikki had made for her when she was told to ‘Dig In and Stuff Her Face.’ Luckily, her mother caught her and told her to stop before she made any real head way in pulling her cake apart and scaring her party guests even more that Marinette had already.

Later that night, Lady Sabine and Tikki made the executive decision to come clean with the secret that they had been holding in since that fateful day so many years ago.

“I always knew something was wrong with me.” Marinette confessed, her voice small in the large space that was her parents bedroom. She sat between her mother and Tikki, her hands grasped firmly in her mothers. It was freeing, finally being able to confess the thoughts that had berated her for years, in the back corners of her mind that she tried not to acknowledge when the teasing became particularly battering. Still, she knew learning the truth didn’t mean that anything. Against everything she had been told, the truth would not set her free.

She turned her pleading gaze towards Tikki whose worried blue eyes nearly matched her own, “Cant you take the spell back? You’re a fairy.”

Tikki twisted at the hem of her apron, a guilty look across her petite features, “Its not that simple. Im only a household fairy honey.”

She waved one of her hands through the air like she was shooing an imaginary bug away. Maybe she was just hoping it could shoo away their problems, “Besides, according to fairy guidelines, only the fairy who gave you the gift can take it back and believe me when I say we have begged him.”

She rested her hand on top of the pile of Marinette’s and Lady Sabine’s hands, “Not only that, but he said she’d turn you mother into a stinky piece of Camembert and take away my eternal youth if we ever asked him again.”

Marinette leaned against her mother’s narrow shoulder and resisted the urge to either pull her pigtails out or sob uncontrollably at the hand fate had dealt her, “It’s not fair…”

Her mother twisted and wrapped her daughter in a soft embrace, her cheek pressed into the crown of Marinette’s head. She smelled of warm cookies and Marinette couldn’t help but ease into the embrace. “I know, darling. I know.”

###

_So Marinette now knew why she'd always obeyed._  
_But she never stopped fighting to have things her way._  
_As she struggled to find a way out of her gift,_  
_she had no way of knowing something worse was adrift._

Marinette could think of every single way she thought her mother was beautiful. Her smile was easy and her laugh was as sunny and bright as the summer sun. She could make cookies that would melt the hardest of hearts and made Marinette’s worst days at school seem like they were a walk in the park. She loved her mother from her soft gray eyes to her matching midnight blue hair that she shared with her daughter. Her mother and father made for the happiest of families until Lady Sabine came down with something that doctors were sure that she would never shake.

Nine year-old Marinette sat crouched beside her mother and father’s large bed while her mother lay up looking more and more sickly by the day. Marinette had never seen a flower die slowly, but as her mother withered where she lay she couldn’t help but think that this was what it would be like. She held her mothers weak hand tightly on top of her plush silk comforter. It felt so small, so frail like a piece of glass, “Please get well Mother.”

Sabine smiled weakly at her young daughter, her face beaded with sweat that caked in her hair that had lost its once beautiful sheen. Her eyes were cloudy so when she looked at

Marinette it felt more like she were looking through her, “Listen to me Marinette.”

Her breath came in short gasps and she fumbled gracelessly to keep hold of her daughters hand, “Only Tikki and I know about the gift Plagg gave you. We’ve never even told your father.”

That was a shock to Marinette though it did explain some of the odder cover up explanations that her Mother and Tikki had come up with for her forced obedience. Lady Sabine tugged on her daughters hand helplessly, “And you must never tell anyone else. I don't want anyone using it against you.”

“Mother please!”

Lady Sabine cut her off with another tug at Marinette’s hand, “Remember, no matter what anyone says or tells you to do, look to yourself Marinette.”

She gently let go of her daughters hand and pointed at the young girls heart, “What’s inside you… is stronger than any spell.”

Marinette sniffed, holding back tears as she tried to keep a brave face on for her mother as the sick noblewoman brought her shaky hands up to the back of her neck where the clasp for a necklace she always wore hung cool against her feverish pale skin. It was a beautiful gold pendant that her husband had bought for her on one of his many trips, shaped like a ladybug with a red jewel at the center of its six golden legs. It was supposed to be a sign of good luck, the ladybug pendant, but as Lady Sabine handed it over to her young daughter, Marinette couldn’t help but think that that was a lie. From her perspective, her mother didn’t appear very lucky at all.

“Take this,” she said quietly, lowering the pendant and chain into her daughter’s waiting hands, the chain pooling in her cupped palms. “Then I’ll always be with you.”

Marinette stared down at the pendant that had meant everything to her mother and wondered if it would do her much better as a good luck charm. As she considered the piece of jewelry, her mother drifted off to sleep as her father and Tikki came back into the room to look after the ailing woman.

A few days later, Lady Sabine Cheng of Frell succumbed to her illness and Marinette said her final goodbyes to her loving mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prologue bites the dust! I finally got a profile on here so I'm hoping that I can start posting constantly every Tuesday like I do on my other platforms. For now though, here's the prologue! Hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
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> 
> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment of a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	2. Chapter 2

It was a beautiful summer’s day when Marinette’s world started falling apart. It was sunny, not a cloud in the sky, and she awoke to the lovely sound of birds singing a pretty tune outside her bedroom window. She had pulled her hair into twin tails with her favorite red ribbons and had plans to go for a walk with her best friend Rose through the village later that day. It had all the promises of being a wonderful day in Frell. 

But then Tikki came to tell her that her father needed to have a word with her and suddenly what she was going to have for breakfast was the least of her problems.

“You’re married?” Marinette’s voice went shrill with shock as she jumped from her seat in their living room.

Sir Tom held out his hands pleadingly to his only daughter from where he was perched in his own seat opposite of her, “She has money, Marinette, and she’s very fond of my title.”

Marinette wanted to scoff at the load of tripe that her father was telling her. She wasn’t sure what she was more upsetting, the fact that he was married now without telling her or the reason for which he had gone about tying the knot.

“It was either get married or sell the house.” He held out a hand to Marinette, his green eyes bright as he tried to make her see the bright side to this sudden development in their lives. “You’ll love Dame Mendeleiev and her daughters. She’ll make a wonderful mother.”

At his daughter’s gaping expression, he cleared his throat, quickly rethinking what he had said. “Well, a motherlike figure.”

Sir Tom rose from his seat, towering over his petite child both in height and in width. Anyone who didn’t know him would say he was intimidating with hands like dinner plates and shoulders that were the width of three Marinettes put together. But as he turned her head with a finger under her chin, Marinette couldn’t help but think of how her larger-than-life father seemed more like a teddy bear than anything else. His sideburns and bushy mustache wiggled when he smiled down at her with the kindest of gazes. “Look, I’m sure you’ll all be the best of friends.”

Marinette smiled in spite of herself, hugging her father’s wide shoulders as she tried to keep positive. “Okay Papa.”

###

Hours later, a bright yellow taxi carriage pulled up outside of Sir Dupain’s home. A lanky purple haired woman in an extravagant black dress and jewelry spilled out onto the lawn with her. Scrutinizing eyes raking over the cottage she craned her head back towards the footman at the door. “There must be some mistake! You must have gotten the address wrong, because this is not castle!”

At the door, Sir Tom, along with Marinette and Tikki, came strolling along the path that led out to the front gate. He spread his arms out in a welcoming gesture. “My dear!” He embraced Dame Mendeleiev before kissing her on both of her cheeks, the gaunt woman looking frail beside her stocky husband. “Welcome to my home.”

He kept an arm around her narrow shoulders as he looked past her to the taxi carriage where two more girls in brightly colored dresses appeared from the compartment. “And these must be your lovely daughters!”

Dame Mendeleiv put on a rather strained smile, as if the expression stretched her skin too tightly, and motioned to each of her daughters in turn as she introduced them, ”My precious Chloe and my special Sabrina.”

Chloe was a thin blonde with heavy make-up above her half-lidded blue eyes. She chewed a piece of gum rather loudly and was dressed in a gown the color of a bright buttercup flower that pooled around her feet. The curtsy she gave was half-hearted, her eyes never leaving the facade of the house with the same snarly expression of disgust that her mother had.

Sabrina stumbled out of the carriage, catching her heel on the hem of her equally bright aqua-colored dress before catching herself just behind her sister Chloe. Her warm orange-colored hair stuck out like a sore thumb against the color of her dress that matched her eyes perfectly. She had a wide grin as she fiddled with her skirt, her curtsy deeper, but still sloppy, than her sisters. They were an odd trio to say the least - the vulture and her technicolor children - but Marinette had promised her father that she would give it a shot. Despite the designer that screamed in horror at her on the inside, she tried not to judge them by their outrageous apparel.

Dame Mendeleiev turned her haughty gaze towards Marinette, who resisted the urge to stand up straighter. She suddenly feIt like she was back at school about to get a reprimand from a strict teacher. “And you must be Marinette. Your father speaks frequently of you.”

 _I only wish I could say the same_ , Marinette thought, but held her tongue, curtsying to the older woman so politely that it would have made her mother proud. “Pleased to meet you.”

“And my house fairy, Tikki.” Sir Tom gestured to the young woman beside his daughter who took a step forward and curtsied as well.

Dame Mendeleiev merely gave them both a sour smile before turning it on Sir Tom. “The house looks delightful, but I do seem to remember that at the noblemen’s convention you said you lived in a castle.”

She was snarling at him, obviously upset, but her temper rolled off of Sir Tom like water off a duck’s back, his warm smile never faltering under the weight of her fury. “No, I believe I said a man’s home is his castle, my dear.”

As the adults quarreled over the subjective definition of what makes a castle a castle, Marinette side-stepped them to stand before Chloe and Sabrina.

“Hi,” she smiled as best she could, hoping to make them feel as welcome as possible with a friendly face. “Im Marinette. Welcome to Frell.”

The two daughters didn’t bother returning the greeting, Chloe blowing a large bubble with her gum while Sabrina looked about the garden and lawn like she was in a daze. Marinette let out a deep sigh. This may be harder than she thought it would be.

###

Marinette was amazed at how much stuff she had in her attic. Sketchbooks, pieces of spare paper and pencils littered her desktop and her clothing never seemed to make it back onto their hangers like they were supposed to after they were dried. Loose pieces of fabric scraps she had collected over the years littered her work station, and the box where she typically hid them away was thrown open in a disarray. The only reason her bed was ever made was because Tikki was nice enough to make it for her, but beside that, her room was the perfect picture of organized chaos.

Then there was Chloe and Sabrina’s room.

Their dresses were thrown about the small space, most of them barely fitting in the twin hutches that sat against one of the walls. It was as if a circus of colorful acrobats had made their nest in the spare room with piles of multicolored dresses tossed all over the place, most of them yellow or aqua like the ones the sisters had arrived in. Jewelry littered the desk along with boxes of make-up and other paraphernalia that Marinette couldn’t make heads or tails of no matter how she looked at it. All of this was perfectly understandable, for the most part, given that they were moving in to a new house and hadn’t gotten around to organizing themselves yet, but it was the posters that Marinette found odd.

They had plastered them everywhere. Every wall, every corner, some were even hung on the sloping ceiling just above their beds where they could manage to reach, and all of them adorned with the smiling face of Lamia’s prodigal son, Prince Adrien.

Sure she had seem him before, he was plastered on the front of every newspaper and quarterly in the country, but still Marinette couldn’t see the point of the obsession that they shared with most of the young maidens their age. Marinette couldn’t see the appeal of it all, fawning over someone so far out of reach, someone that they would never meet let alone get to know, but still she had to ask. “Whats with the prince pin-ups?”

Sabrina bounced on the balls of her feet in front of another poster that she had been in the process of putting up next to her bed. “Chloe’s president of the Prince Adrien fan club!” She squealed, as if this were the highest honor in the kingdom.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “And? You know Adrien and his father are responsible for the segregation of the kingdom right? Does the enslavement of the Giants ring a bell to either of you?”

Chloe turned on her heel from where she clutched her Prince Adrien Fan Club Officer pin close to her chest. She hadn’t stopped chewing that awful gum since she entered the house and it smacked between her teeth when she spoke in that nasal vocal grind. “So? He’s dreamy.”

She and her sister swooned in harmony before Chloe sauntered over to her personal hutch. She threw it open to examine it's empty interior and scoffed in disgust, turning on Marinette as if she were the one to blame for the lack of space. “Is this hutch meant to be a closet?”

Marinette merely nodded and Chloe placed her hands firmly on her hips, cocking one out to the side sharply. “It's pathetic. My clothes need way more room than this… this… stupid hutch!”

She tossed her blonde hair over one shoulder looking more and more impatient with each passing moment as she stared down what was supposed to be her closet. “We’ll have to use yours.”

Marinette choked on her spit in her surprise. “Excuse me?”

Chloe rolled her eyes, cocking her head to the side to stare down her newly appointed step-sister. “You heard me. Show it to us.”

That was it. The all too misplaced and magical command that overwhelmed Marinette’s most basic inhibitions. All at once her muscles seized and her conscious mind was forced to take a back seat ride as her traitorous body went on autopilot, her arms and legs moving of their own accord from her step-sisters' room to her own attic space. She crossed the wooden floors with purpose, never wasting a single step before throwing open her own closet where her mother had hidden her so many years before.

As they entered, Chloe and Sabrina glanced around the attic room with slight disgust, Chloe more so than Sabrina, as they approached Marinette’s closet. “Oh. It's so…ugly. It's down right ghastly, isn’t it?”

The girls cackled like a pair of snarly hyenas before Chloe moved past where Marinette stood at stiff attention to peer into her closet. She groaned, pressing the back of her hand against her forehead overdramatically as she threw herself against the closet molding. “Ugh, Sabrina! There’s no room in here either!”

She placed her hands firmly on her hips again, squaring off against the closet where Marinette’s innocent clothes hung on their hangers. “We’re just gonna have to throw out some of your awful gowns to make room!”

Chloe made a move to start tearing into her step-sister’s clothing when Marinette grappled at her wrists to pull her away, “Hey, wait, get away from there!”

Chloe yanked her wrists away from Marinette’s pleading grip, her constant look of disgust somehow deepening into the lines of her face as she howled. “No, you get away you peon!”

The command seized Marinette’s muscles and she immediately stepped away from Chloe and went back to being stock stiff at attention.

Both Chloe and Sabrina were once again taken aback at their new sibling’s creepy compliance towards Chloe’s order. Her shock was over taken by curiosity, though, when Chloe caught sight of the beautiful red and gold pendant that hung around Marinette’s neck.

“Oh. What’s that. I don’t hate that, actually.” she mused as she leaned closer to get a better look at the ladybug pendant that Marinette had coveted since she was nine years old.

Marinette instinctively reared back from the encroaching hand to cover the pendant with her hand. “Please don’t touch it. It was my mother’s.”

If Chloe noticed Marinette’s cry for space she pretended not to hear it. “Can I have it?”

“No!” Marinette scoffed.

“Dont be so rude, Marinette. It can be your gift to me. It’s the least you can do after giving me that stupid hutch for a closet.”

When Marinette refused to give it up, Chloe merely snapped her fingers impatiently at her. “Come on, then, hand it over!”

Without a moment’s hesitation and to her complete horror, Marinette raised her hand and gripped the necklace by its pendant before pulling it off her neck, the chain breaking at the strained effort of keeping the clasp together against the force of her pull. She slapped it into Chloe’s open and waiting hand, trying to mask her own shock as Chloe and Sabrina stared at the supposed gift that Marinette had given her.

“Well,” Chloe cleared her throat, quickly recovering from the surprise of Marinette’s extreme cooperation and holding the necklace closer to her face for closer examination. “That’s more like it.”

While Chloe and Sabrina batted their eyelashes at the pretty ruby red pendant and its golden inset, Marinette struggled to hold it together as she watched the last remnants of her mother’s memory walk away with her in the hands of someone who could never understand what it had cost.

###

Two weeks into their new normal, Sir Tom was called away on business to a nearby town where they had planned to open another one of their famous bakeries with the financial help of Marinette’s new step-mother. The night before he was to leave, Marinette begged to go along with him, but her plea’s fell on deaf ears.

“I know you want to come, Marinette, really I do, but someone has to be here to look after the local business,” he explained, caressing a finger down his daughter’s fair cheek as she pouted. “The minute - no, the very second I am done with the new opening I’ll be back.”

He craned his head down to catch Marinette’s averted gaze with a knowing smile. “And the moment I do, you and I will go and visit that new fabric shop you’ve been going on and on about. Deal?”

Marinette paused, stringing him on a moment more before she smiled in spite of herself. Her father really did know how to butter her up. “Deal.”

She hugged her father as tightly as she could, her arms unable to wrap completely around him. “I’ll miss you, Papa. Please hurry back.”

Sir Tom pressed a kiss onto the top of his daughter’s head before crushing her in his own hug, sweeping her off her feet in the embrace. “I’ll miss you too, my lucky ladybug.”

They bid each other a fond goodnight and as Marinette climbed her way up to her attic room, she tried to ignore the snarly comments and giggles at her expense coming from her step-sisters’ room.

“I mean can you believe the way she dresses? It's like she was raised by an ogre with horribly bad taste and the looks to match!” The two girls cackled and guffawed as Marinette passed by. She sighed. This was going to be a long, long trip away from her father.

#

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha finally chapter 1. Time for the madness to begin starting with when Marinette's world started to really fall apart. 
> 
> Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> 
> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment of a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	3. Chapter 3

The school in Frell was more impressive than what most would consider of a small village educational center. It was a converted mansion that was donated to the village by the last lord of the realm before he died, leaving his worldly possessions to his surviving relatives but keeping the mansion for the children of Frell who he adored dearly. Every summer, festivals were held on the school's sweeping green lawns and every winter they would hold an end-of-term feast in the Grand Hall, the likes of which could never be topped.

Marinette loved the school. Summers spent on a blanket during lunch out in the warm sun and winter breaks spent curled up in the vast library by the fires that heated the old place. She had always excelled in her classes, despite the learning curve it gave her at times when it came to the out of turn command or misplaced order. That day was to be especially rewarding in her opinion. Her English class was doing mock debates and her newest classmate had been chosen to be her opponent on the chopping block.

“Elves, giants, ogres and humans used to live in harmony in the kingdom,” Marinette stated as she stood along side her podium looking more graceful than everyone knew she really was. Leaning against her own podium, Chloe twisted at her blonde locks and smacked on her awful chewing gum.

“Until the King’s Chief Advisor was allegedly killed by an ogre in the Forest of Pim, which resulted in King Gabriel putting in place some of the harshest edicts ever known in the history of Kyrria. He exiled all nonhuman creatures, putting them into forced labor camps or making them act as entertainers for his court’s amusement before taking their land and keeping it for himself. He has wrongly segregated the land and twisted it to his own unfair image against the betterment of his own people.”

From where she stood in front of her sitting students, Madame Bustier smiled at her pupil while the class clapped politely behind her, “Very well done, Marinette. Give yourself a pat on the back.”

Immediately, Marinette’s hand jerkily swung up and patted herself on the back just as she was told. Her classmates giggled and sneered at Marinette’s typical odd behavior while her best friend Rose looked at her sympathetically from her seat on the third row. 

“Thank you, Madame Bustier.” Marinette flushed with embarrassment as she forced her hand back down to her side.

Madame Bustier strode casually across the front of the classroom, a hand gesturing towards the other girl who stood on stage with Marinette, “Rebuttal, Chloe, if you would be so kind.”

“Of course, Madame Bustier.” Chloe mused, her voice sweet as sugar as she stood up straight to address the class. “Simply put, my opponent has a brain the size of a walnut and obviously has no idea how the actual world works.”

“Hey!” Marinette started, but Chloe was already on a roll.

“Since King Gabriel got rid of those hideous creatures, life in the kingdom has been fabulous! He got rid of those ugly ogres, put those lazy giants and elves to work and has revolutionized our economy!” She turned a steely eyed glance at Marinette. “Obviously you wouldn’t know anything about that, peon.”

Marinette bristled while Madame Bustier tried to play the part of a diplomat to no avail. “Now Chloe thats no way to-“

“I don’t know how things are done in the Capital,” Marinette retorted, her cheeks going as red as her hair ribbons, “But here in Frell we consider enslavement to be a gross abuse of human rights!”

“They’re not human stupid.” Chloe spat.

“Then humanoid rights! We may live nicely, but they work for nothing all so we can live such lives! I don’t care what you have to say about our supposed ‘thriving economy’ because what King Gabriel has done is horrendous.” Marinette leaned onto her own podium with the same cut eyed stare that Chloe had been cutting into her since she had started talking. “And Im not too sure about his son either.”

At that admission, numerous students out in the seats gasped along with Chloe who looked as if Marinette had just stomped on a puppy then spat on her favorite pair of designer shoes.

“That shows how much you know Smellinette!” Chloe was livid, her face red with pure anger over Marinette’s accusation. “Prince Adrien will be the greatest king ever!”

She turned to the crowd of on lookers who were quickly turning into a mob with very passing second, “Right ladies?”

A chorus of agreement came from the peanut gallery which didn’t do anything to staunch Marinette’s quickly boiling over mood. She just couldn’t understand, what was the fuss about? Couldn’t they see the pointlessness of it all, that what the upper eschaton had done was something a nice looking boy could fix with looks alone once he was enthroned? And if he was raised by a man like King Gabriel then all hope of him being any better had gone out the window a long time ago in her opinion.

However, all this measured thought and logical processing didn’t mean that Marinette could resist taking a swipe at Chloe’s oversized pride.

“I wonder if my opponent has based her opinion on the prince’s political stances or how cute she thinks his butt it,” she mused, a chorus of gasps going through the class. She saw Rose stifle an outright laugh while Madame Bustier fought to keep the noise down.

“Marinette, I don’t think that is in any way appropriate considering the topic-“

“Whatever, Marinette, just admit you’re stupid and don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“I’m stupid and I don’t know what I’m talking about!”

Marinette didn’t know who was more surprised, Chloe and her class or Marinette herself who hiccuped and covered her mouth after her incriminating outburst.

Madame Bustier was the first to recover, looking at her student with concern. Marinette had her odd behaviors but had never been so easily swayed when it came to changing her opinion. Having her agree with Chloe was odd to say the least. “Marinette?”

The young girl slowly brought her hands down to her side, her cheeks flushed red. Why couldn’t lightning come down and strike her dead right then? Why must she continue on like this in front of so many people? She tried to save face, clearing her throat and faking a small resemblance of composure. “As I was saying, in conclusion-“

“Hold your tongue Marinette.” Chloe ordered and with a jerky bend of her arm, Marinette stood before her class with her fingers pitching the wet flesh of her tongue between two fingers. Every child’s worst nightmare, embarrassing yourself in front of their class, was quickly becoming what the coroner would write on her death certificate.

The class giggled and laughed and Madame Bustier was becoming more and more impatient with Marinette’s latest antics, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng! If you are not going to take this seriously then Im going to have to send you to the headmasters office and declare Chloe the winner!”

Marinette forcefully pulled her fingers away from her tongue with a groan while the class cheered for their new debate champion. Another day, another long trip to the headmaster’s office.

###

“It could be worse.”

“What would you consider worse than a weeks worth of detention Rose?”

“Um… Two weeks detention?” Rose replied innocently, her sweet tone almost enough to convince Marinette that she had gotten a better end of the deal with Headmaster Damocles.

Marinette giggled, shaking her head. “I guess you’re right.”

They were reclining out in the warm spring sun on a blanket that Rose kept in her locker for such occasions. Large swaths of canvas were spread out before them along with paints Marinette had snuck out of the art room the period before lunch. They had been planning to use every free lunch period possible in order to prepare for their secret project. If they were going to be ready for the big ceremony a few days from then, preparation and planning were going to be key.

Across the blanket from her, Marinette’s best friend Rose Lavillant dipped her paintbrush into the large glass jar they had filled with rosy pink paint. That was one of the things that Marinette loved about Rose beside her naturally optimistic personality. Not only did they both have a great love for protecting and promoting the rights of the downtrodden, they both _adored_ the color pink.

Rose was a petite girl with fair skin and even fairer blonde hair that she kept cut at an outlandish pixie length. She had large blue eyes and was always smiling, always looking to the bright side which Marinette always found refreshing even on her most hopeless of days. Not everyone liked Rose’s permanent positivity, namely one nasty girl with cheap blonde hair and a gross smacking habit. In her hand, the brush tip had been smashed to a frizzy mess against the canvas.

“Um Marinette?” Rose asked cautiously, her own brush hovering over the letter she had just painted on her own banner.

“What.”

“The paint brush? You’ve sort of… mutilated it.”

Marinette let out a sharp cry at the sight of what she had done and quickly dunked the poor paintbrush into the jar of water they had on standby. Hopefully the water would allow Marinette to smooth the bristles back into a tip or else her art teacher was going to have a field day. Yet another teacher who would be upset with her behavior and conduct.

The young girl let out a soft groan, her head drooping back to stare into the tree that branched out above where they sat. She wished her father was there. He’d know how to get everything back into what she thought of as a semblance of normal.

Rose gently set her own paintbrush into the water before folding her hands into her lap. She hadn’t managed to get a drop of paint anywhere on her hands or frock which Marinette thought was a feat of pure magic. “Is it Chloe again?”

Marinette’s cheeks puffed up in irritation before she let out a sharp puff of air. “I know I shouldn’t let her get to me but she just-“ she balled her hands into fists, shaking them with each word, “-fires up this little red bug! And not in a good way!”

“It’s never in a good way.” Rose agreed amicably.

“Right!” She let out another groan of frustration before turning back to the banner spread out before her, “I just don’t understand her.”

“I don’t think anyone understands your step-sisters Marinette but that’s okay! They’ll come around eventually.”

There it was, the silver line to the cloud that had hung over Marinette since her father had left. She could only hope that she could keep it in sight without Rose having to point it out every time she got her skirt in a twist over her step-sisters antics.

Sensing the need for a change in topic, Rose turned back to her own banner, “Hey Marinette.”

“Yes?”

“What do you think?” Rose asked cheerfully before holding up the banner she had been working on for the past three days. In beautiful curled penmanship, the phrase ‘Stop the Giant Land Grab!”, was spelled out in pink paint, complete with the cutest frowning faces that Marinette had ever seen on a protest banner. She broke out into a bright grin. “Its perfect, Rose.”

“Well, I think its hideous,” a voice sneered, and Marinette’s mood turned sour once more.

Unseen in their approach from behind the tree, Marinette had failed to notice that her step-sisters had come to watch their arts and crafts session. Chloe, in a daisy-patterned canary yellow dress, leaned against the tree trunk while Sabrina, in an equally bright aqua dress that was dotted with small birds, fidgeted with her school satchel. From where she sat, Marinette could have sworn she saw the golden gleam of one of the great hall’s candlesticks poking out from the satchel’s opening.

“I mean really, frowny faces? What are you trying to do, bore them to death?” Chloe sneered before letting out an obnoxious cackle that Sabrina echoed gleefully.

“Come on, Chloe, lay off.” Marinette retorted, standing from her seat on the blanket to square off against the other girl once more. “This has nothing to do with you, so why don’t you go, I don’t know, make some children cry or steal another candlestick? You’re both good at that.”

“It most certainly does have something to do with me if you think that you’re going to ruin my one chance at love by going on and on about your pointless opinions at the opening this week!” Chloe shrieked, her voice getting louder with every word she spoke. “Prince Adrien isn’t going to want to hear about your pathetic politics when he should be wooing me!”

“Woo you? Ha!” Marinette let out a sharp laugh at the thought. “He’s a prince, Chloe. Like he’d even bother with wooing a village girl.”

Chloe’s eyes narrowed as she scowled at her opponent, her teeth bared like she was a feral dog. “Listen here, Smellinette.” She turned on Rose as well. “You too, halfling.”

Rose whimpered, covering her pointed ears at the mention of her heritage before Chloe rumbled on. “You two aren’t going to ruin my chance at love with your ridiculous schemes for attention, got it?”

Marinette growled, preferring to keep her mouth shut than keep this pointless squabble going. Better to live to fight another day than waste her energy on another fight with Chloe that day. “Whatever, Chloe, just leave us alone.”

Chloe waited a moment, as if to consider whether or not she wanted to continue shaming her step-sister and her friend before deciding against it and taking a step back. “Yeah, whatever.”

She turned to leave with Sabrina, but not before she spit her wad of gum onto Marinette’s banner. Marinette seethed as she watched the blue and yellow figures retreat back towards the school’s main building. She was about ready to go off again when she noticed that Rose had gone quiet. She looked over at her petite friend who had curled in on herself, using her hands to cover her pointed ears.

Marinette sighed, kneeling down to place a hand on Rose’s knee. Her friend’s bright blue eyes had clouded with tears and her lip quivered as she looked back at Marinette. Not many people liked to mention Rose’s pointed ears or the fact that she was a half-elf, but for those who liked to poke fun at her, it was an easy target. It wasn’t just full blooded elves, ogres and giants who had been persecuted during King Gabriel’s reign. Halflings like Rose had been pushed around along with them. Rose was lucky enough to be a normal height or else she might not have gotten into public school at all. All of Marinette’s posturing about humanoid rights wasn’t just about some random issue, this was close to home. They were going to make sure their voices were heard.

“Don’t listen to her, Rose. I love your frowny faces. They’re very appropriate and your banner is spectacular. It’s gonna knock ‘em dead for sure.”

Rose sniffed, wiping a stray tear from her cheek as she cracked a small smile, “Thanks, Marinette.”

“What are best friends for?” Marinette grinned. They started to gather all of their painting supplies together, Rose taking the banners and blanket while Marinette stuck the paintbrushes and paint jars into her bag. As they made their way back to the main building, Rose thought of something that Chloe had said.

“I don’t want to admit it, Marinette, but Chloe did have a point earlier.”

“What, that she has a chance with a Prince?”

Rose snorted, a bright and happy sound. “No! The thing about Prince Adrien being different. We don’t actually know anything about him since he’s been away at school.”

“Yeah, well, any son of King Gabriel is going to have to be pretty extraordinary if he’s going to change my mind,” Marinette replied before they parted ways, Rose for theatre and Marinette to the art class for her free period.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two and we're following the movie plot nicely until we get to a bonus section at the end. Hope you enjoy!
> 
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> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment of a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	4. Chapter 4

 

Carriages often fly through the Frell countryside, families going out for the afternoon, tradesmen coming in to sell their wears and the odd nobleman who was off for afternoon tea with another person of nobility. That afternoon though, a person of far grander standing sat looking out their carriage window as they jackknifed down the country road.

“Father, why do I have to go to this mall opening?” The young man asked tiredly as he leaned his chin into his hand. He stared out over the rippling green pastures that streaked past his window with a longing he didn’t know he could have until he got in the carriage that morning. They had been driving for hours and his legs were starting to twitch from disuse.

He regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth from the way his father looked up from his book to stare disapprovingly at him. He had grown used to the admonishments and overly critical commentary on his every movement, but the quiet looks made him want to crawl back into bed and hide.

“As heir to the throne, it's your royal responsibility,” King Gabriel replied coldly as he looked back down at his book. “It’s unwise to go back on your word Adrien. Besides, you’re a public figure. Appearances are important.”

The young man heaved a long sigh as he turned back towards the window. Yes, if it was one thing that had been ingrained in him since he was a boy, it was that appearances weren’t just important, they were everything.

King Gabriel and his son Prince Adrien did these types of appearances multiple times in a week; whether it was a mall opening or the christening of a new ship in their navy, they were there to kiss babies and shake the odd hand or two. It didn’t mean Adrien had to like it. In fact it was one of the major reasons why when his father offered the chance to go away to school, he couldn’t pack quickly enough. But the sad thing was that term was up, which meant he was home in Kyrria with an obnoxious amount of personal appearances.

“You’re the one in charge, though, Father.” Adrien said under his breath, more to himself than to his father, but that didn’t mean his fathers sharp hearing didn’t catch it.

King Gabriel was a man of stature, sitting tall in his seat without a deviation in his posture as he closed his book and rested his pale folded hands on it's cover. He looked like he was carved from marble with gaunt skin and pale hair streaked with gray from years of stress, a regal crown sitting upon his head. He oozed regality from every pore but also a rigid coldness that Adrien could never quite crack, even after 19 years spent under the same roof.

“I am only in charge for a little while longer. Your coronation is next week and because of your absence you have been out of the peoples’ eye. You need to be out there with the people, Adrien, so that they can learn to trust us.”

Adrien blinked in surprise at that, pulling his gaze away from the landscape to look at his father quizzically. “What’s not to trust? We’ve always done what’s right for the people have we not?”

His father seemed to consider his answer for a moment, looking at his son unwaveringly as he did so. Adrien tried not to fidget under the weight of his gaze. Any movement would be considered a sign of weakness which would not be allowed. It was something that reminded him of the big cats or wolves that he had learned about in his science classes. A predator only goes after the weak and his father was nothing if not a predator.

“There isn’t anything not to trust, Adrien, but while you were away, the kingdom has been under siege. In your absence, the ogres have become impossible.”

“He’s right Adrien,” The quiet voice of his fathers new advisor Natalie Sancoeur, piped up from where she had been reviewing a list of legislation for most of the ride from Lamia. Natalie wasn’t all that new in hindsight, Adrien often had to remind himself. She had been his father’s advisor from the time that his father’s old advisor, Nooroo, had been killed by a group of outraged ogres. She wasn’t all that bad. She kept the kingdom running and made sure that his father was well cared for whenever he got into his work moods and stopped eating or sleeping, but she was no Nooroo. She scribbled a note down on one of the papers quickly before continuing on. “Even the giants have become more and more treacherous in recent months.”

That caught Adrien’s attention, sitting up straighter in his seat to look bewildered at the two older nobles. “But the giants have always been peaceful. Why would they-“

“The ogres were once peaceful until they ripped my advisor apart,” King Gabriel cut him off abruptly, his eyes narrowing at his son. “Looks can be deceiving, Adrien, I was hoping your time away would have waned your naivety. However, it looks like my hopes were raised too high to expect that.”

Adrien curled in on himself slightly as his fingers twisted themselves together in his lap. King Gabriel looked out the window, the conversation on the matter over now as the landscape turned from green fields to cozy cottages. “Now put on a smile. We have a congregation to address.”

###

The new mall was alive with people milling about the open air shops that rose two stories above the ground. Excited girls stared wide-eyed and giddy at a pair of golden slippers on display outside of a shoe store. A pair of men discussed the proper way of wielding a sword in the alcove of a blacksmith’s display shop. Nearby, a young man in his mid-twenties tried hawking something called a squirrel log to anyone who bothered to get too close to his kiosk. The opening was off to a thrilling start for all those concerned and the main event hadn’t even begun.

In the center square, a crowd had started to gather around an already set up stage with soldiers positioned around the front and at the side staircases. Banners were hung over the back with effigies of King Gabriel and his son Prince Adrien sewn onto the tapestries with fine golden thread. Similar posters to the ones Chloe and Sabrina had wallpapered their room with were hung on every spare space of wall while at the foot of the stage, a hairbreadths away from where their idol would stand to address the crowd, the Prince Adrien Fan Club twittered and twitched in a tight group of their own.

Waiting ever patiently at the foot of the new stone statue of the kingdom’s royals, Marinette and Rose watched for the king and the prince’s arrival on stage. Their banners were rolled up and perfectly prepared just for the occasion in their satchels. Rose craned her head from where she stood on the lip of the statue’s circular base, just as excited as everyone else to catch sight of the lovely prince, while Marinette went over the details of their production in her head while staring up at the smoke-tinged sky above.

As she contemplated their protest, Marinette’s gaze drifted from the sky to the closer cut of the stone statue. Upon closer examination, she could definitely tell what all of the fuss was about; she would have to be stupid not to see how handsome the prince was. He looked like he should grace a poster or wall hanging, which he did, and would have women fawn after him with just a look, which again, he did. Then again, there were rumors that the royal painters and sculptors were paid to make the royal family look better than they were so who knew what he looked like in person. Guess she was about to find out.

The crowd had started to become agitated, whispers and murmurs spreading like wildfire from person to person until it eventually reached where the two girls were perched.

“Oooo Marinette!” Rose squealed, bouncing on the tips of her toes over the craning heads of those on the ground. “The carriage is here!”

“Remember the plan, Rose!” Marinette tugged at her best friend’s skirt hem before gesturing to her own satchel where the banner barely peaked out from where it was stored. “We’re here for a reason!”

Marinette thought she saw her friend nod, but if she actually said something to her in return, she never caught it because a roar went up from the surrounding crowd as the king stepped out from behind one of the banners to take his place at the head of the stage. He pursed his lip as if he had sucked down a sour lemon before offering the slightest of waves to those gathered below him. He rested one hand on his cane that never seemed to leave his side and waited with a blank expression for the crowd to calm. Only once they had calmed to an excited rumble did he step towards the vocal amplifier provided on stage.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. It's wonderful to be here in your charming town of -” he paused, most likely in an attempt to remember the village’s name, “Frell. Prince Adrien and I-“

The mention of the object of their ludicrous affection sent the group of fan club members into a tizzy at the foot of the stage. Marinette could have sworn she heard her step-sisters’ shrill shrieks from where she sat at the ready. “We want Adrien! We want Adrien! We want Adrien!” They chanted incessantly to the point of madness, and once again King Gabriel waited for silence.

He cleared his throat, his face never twitching from the same stoney-faced expression as his gaze swept over the mall crowd, “-are looking forward to everything that this village will have to offer to the kingdom as a whole. Now it is my great pleasure to welcome my son and heir to the stage, Prince Adrien.”

The crowd shrieked with glee as the poster boy for princedom appeared on stage, his thousand watt smile bright as the sun as he waved and greeted his adoring fans. At the front of the crowd, the Prince Adrien Fan Club had lost it, some of them foaming at the mouth as they grappled over one another to get closer to Adrien's polished riding boots. That was their cue.

Rose and Marinette quickly pulled out their banners from their satchels and struggled to get their message above the other villagers.

“Say no to ogrecide!” Marinette chanted over and over with Rose echoing her own phrase of “Stop the Giant Land Grab!” Waving her banner that was covered in her pretty pink frowny faces.

Together they fought against the chorus of screaming fans and adoring villagers for their chance at speaking their mind to the highest level of authority in the land. From where he stood, Adrien paused, gazing over their signs and angry expressions before being encouraged to continue on waving by his father’s angry scowl.

Their rowdy protest had also caught the unwanted attention of someone else in the crowd, and as Chloe made her way towards the two young women, Marinette found her heart beat a little harder at the idea of another confrontation.

“Marinette!” Chloe hissed through gritted teeth, her presidential club pin proudly displayed on her dress along with a rather mangled looking pennant that she clutched in her hand. Sabrina wore similar regalia to her sister and judging from how her cheeks had turned as red as her hair, she wasn’t all too pleased with Marinette being there either. “You are embarrassing us!”

“And I care why?” Marinette retorted before she waved at Rose to continue chanting. She wouldn’t let her step-sisters’ fantasies of charming the prince take priority over justice. Chloe tugged at Marinette’s banner, nearly ripping it from her hands as she snarled in her step-sisters face. “Go home now, Marinette, and take your stupid ideas with you.”

Marinette stifled her own snarl as her body stiffened against her will, her feet already positioned towards the malls entrance, “Sorry, Rose. I have to go.”

“But we just started! Marinette!” Rose called, just as confused as Chloe and Sabrina were about her behavior. She continued to protest Marinette leaving, but the young lady was already carried away from the crowd and away from the prevailing madness. Chloe pulled Rose from her place on the statue’s pedestal before overtaking it herself, waving her pennant wildly in front of her. “I love you, Prince Adrien!”

At the front of the crowd, one of the fan girls had managed to catch Prince Adrien’s attention finally.

“Excuse me! Your Highness!” Adrien turned to see a girl dressed in a bright white frock with her blonde hair tied back into two elaborate braids. She was grinning from ear to ear when he looked at her and her fingers clutched her Adrien Fan Club pin to the point of nearly tearing it in half. The young man smiled nervously, his curiosity getting the best of him as he gripped the stage rail to lean a bit closer to hear her. “Yes?”

“Are you a fast runner?” She asked, eyes warm with mirth and mischief at whatever she was thinking of.

Adrien thought for a moment before answering truthfully, “Not really, no. Why do you ask?”

The club member’s smile turned severe as she called her sisterhood to arms. “Get him!”

Soon they were pushing against the barriers of the soldiers that stood around the ring of the stage, but their need was proving to be too strong as they grappled over armor-clad men. Adrien stumbled back a few steps before looking at his options. To his left, there was a slight opening between a soldier holding off the mob and escape. Without looking to his father or Natalie for official approval, Adrien made an executive decision for himself.

He bolted.

###

The command spell Chloe had given her had worn off by the time Marinette was trudging down the country road towards their house on the far side of the village. She could have gone back, could have tried to reclaim some amount of dignity in front of Rose and continued their protest, but it was too late. Marinette was tired, her feet throbbed in the confines of her boots from walking and she wanted nothing more than to be as far away from her step-sisters as she possibly could be.

She tried to keep back frustrated tears, not only at the spell that Plagg had cast upon her so many years ago but at her own inability to stand up for herself. Surely something so small as a gift shouldn’t be able to control who she was as a person. What she wouldn’t give to be rid of it and finally be able to make her own choices without someone like Chloe ordering her away against her will.

She was contemplating her confining situation when something hard and fast bumped into her from behind, sending her, as well as her assailant, tumbling across the uneven road. Rocks bit into her arms and hands and she sat up to shake the dirt from her hair. “Okay, ow!”

She was ready to turn on whoever had run into her when an arm looped around her waist, dragging her off the road to hide behind a crumbling stone wall. Marinette let out a sharp cry, ready to fight for her life, when a hand came up and covered her mouth, the arm around her waist tightening even more so. Hot breath tickled her ear as the stranger spoke, “Shush! Please be quiet, I'm not going to hurt you.”

Marinette wasn’t sure she believed that when the thundering footsteps of a hoard of young women went trampling past, screaming at octaves that she was sure would send every hound and mutt in the village up into a frenzy. Only when they had galloped past did Marinette realize that they were all wearing some type of merchandise emblazoned with the Prince Adrien Fan Club logo on it.

The arm around her waist loosened and the hand that covered her mouth fell away, allowing Marinette to scamper away from her captor’s grip and dust off her skirt, trying to appear composed despite the odd situation.

Behind her, the young man who had tackled her to the ground cleared his throat nervously. “I'm sorry about that, I don’t typically make it a habit of running people down.”

Marinette took a deep breath, busying herself with her skirt, trying to get out a particularly nasty dirt stain from the pink fabric. “Yeah well next time maybe you’ll-“

Marinette's voice got caught in her throat when the young man finally stepped into her line of sight, looking about as sorry as anyone could after having physically dragged someone off the road then forced them to remain still. He didn’t look nearly as confident in that moment as in the pictures and posters she had seen on her sisters’ walls or in the local paper, but there was no denying who he was. From the golden hair to the bright green eyes and the build of his body, Marinette had just had more than a brush with the royal family.

“Prince Adrien,” Marinette managed, trying to call upon the years of etiquette her mother had taught her before she died.

The prince managed a shy smile that on any other boy Marinette would have found cute, but on a dignitary looked out of place. “Please, call me Adrien.”

He waved tiredly down the road where his fan club had disappeared from view long ago, but judging from the set of his shoulders, he was still prepared to make a break for it at the slightest hint that they were returning. “I'm sorry about all that. Occupational hazard.”

Marinette nodded numbly before realizing that she was staring at him. Her cheeks went hot with shame before she fiddled with her fingers only to realize that in thescuffle, one of her rings had come off her finger. She bent down to reach for it when another hand dove for it as well.

The prince blinked, looking her in the eye with his mint colored gaze. “Allow me.”

Marinette tried to stamp out the heat in her cheeks as she quickly snatched her ring from the ground and slid it onto her finger without making eye contact. “I don’t need your chivalry, thanks.”

She marched back down the road in a huff. “And I have no intention of curtsying to you either, so you can forget that. Bye now, your Highness.”

Marinette tried not to groan when she heard the sound of boots on dirt, the prince jogging to catch up with her before keeping stride along side her as she kept a quick pace down the road. From the corner of her eye, Marinette saw the prince clasp his hands behind his back, his eyes gazing upward towards the pale blue sky where fluffy white clouds drifted by aimlessly. His expression was almost childlike as he looked up at the sky while a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips like he was thinking of something funny.

“You can curtsy if you want to or don’t, that’s your choice after all. Nothing I can do about that.” His eyes cut to the side to glance at her and he cracked a mischievous grin that made Marinette’s heart skip a beat. She quickly looked back down at the road as the prince kept talking. “Except have you beheaded, but for this situation that seems a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

Marinette turned on him suddenly, her fists balled at her sides. “Look, this is all very charming, I suppose is the word, but why don’t we quit with the theatrics and just get more to the point and do what you and your family usually do? Steal my land and destroy my livelihood. If you’ll excuse me-“

She turned away to start marching back down the road when Prince Adrien finally fought back, stubbornness against stubbornness. “Now wait a moment, come back here.”

Marinette grit her teeth, her feet jerkily turning on her heel before dragging her back towards where the young man waited with his hands placed firmly on his hips. She came to a stop in front of him, jutting her chin up defiantly in his direction. “Yes?”

Marinette faltered some when his stern look turned into a bright-eyed look of curiosity, his head tilting to the side in a rather cute manner as he considered her. She could almost see the gears working away in his head. “What’s your name?”

Marinette bit the inside of her lip for a moment before answering. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng of Frell.”

Prince Adrien smiled like he had before, like he knew something she didn’t and couldn’t wait for her to guess. “Well, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you are the first maiden I have ever had the pleasure of meeting who hasn’t swooned at the sight of me.”

He made it sound as if it were an honor to be enamored with him. If it was meant to be a joke, Marinette didn’t fall for it. She spared him a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Then maybe I’ve done you some good.”

For the second time that afternoon, she stepped away from him to continue her trek down the road, only to have him chase after her. His persistence wasn’t starting to be more annoying than charming.

“I don't know what you’ve heard or been told, but I’ve never stolen anyone’s land or destroyed anyone’s livelihood. I want there to be peace in Kyrria as much as anyone.” He sounded sure, almost confident in what he was saying, but Marinette heard nothing but more royal lies and she decided to call him on it.

“So, you have a new plan for once you’re crowned king then?” She asked innocently enough, but judging from how Adrien suddenly curled in on himself she had caught him off guard. His hand clenched and unclenched in front of him, grasping at proverbial straws as he stammered out an answer. “Well, sort of.”

He cleared his throat before tilting his chin up in a way that would have made any royal proud as he looked down his nose at her. “Of course, I couldn’t reveal that to a subject.”

Marinette let out a sharp snort, not sparing him another glance as she started to walk faster down the road. “Yes, of course. You’re all the same! You care more about your fan clubs, your balls or your next jousting tournaments than you do about the greater good of your own people!”

That’s when Adrien overtook her on the road and stopped in front of her, Marinette forced to stop before colliding with him face first. He paused for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists as he gathered his thoughts before holding them out to her pleadingly. “Well, to be perfectly frank, I’ve never been comfortable with the whole fan club thing, as you could have seen from the whole diving off the road thing.”

There it was again, that mega-watt smile of his that he had on stage that he now turned on her, and it was just as bright up close as it was at the mall opening. “That’s probably why I find your obvious disdain for me so utterly refreshing.”

Marinette didn’t back down for a moment as she leaned a little bit closer, amused when the prince’s confident smile seemed to falter some in her presence. “Was it that obvious? And here I was trying so hard to hide it.”

The prince stammered something under his breath as she pulled away, prepared to walk away when her hands brushed against her skirt and not against the satchel that she had had earlier that day. She spun around but didn’t see any sign of it. “Where’s my-?”

She paused when she remembered the scuffle by the old stone wall farther back down the road. She smiled frustratedly at her own distractedness. “It’s back there. Great.”

Prince Adrien brightened somewhat at this unexpected turn in events and, deeming it something of an opportunity to be chivalrous again, held out a hand to stop her in her tracks. “Wait right there. I’ll go get it.”

Immediately, the soles of Marinette’s boots seemed to be cemented where she stood as the young man made a dash back down the road where she had left her purse on the embankment. She let out a sharp sigh, rubbing her neck where a vicious knot was starting to form because of the day’s events. She would be stuck there until her supposed knight in shining armor came back with her belongings.

Farther up the road, Marinette spotted the flash of a carriage thundering down the road, the thumping of the horses’ hooves rumbling through the soles of her shoes. She tugged with all her might, but her feet wouldn’t give. She cleared her throat, calling as loudly as she could in the direction the prince had run. “Prince Adrien?”

The carriage was fast approaching, the driver whipping furiously at his twin horses to move as fast as their toned legs could carry them and, judging from their speed, he had no intention of having them slow down.

“P-Prince Adrien?” Marinette called louder, the effort of raising her voice even louder tearing at her vocal chords. There was no sign of the prince and her feet still refused to budge from where they were stuck on the road. Marinette had started to shake as the carriage driver approached ever faster, the fast thump of horse hooves no match for the forceful beat of her terrified pulse. She always knew her gift would get her in trouble, but death was never something that crossed her mind. As she stared it down, she could help but pray for a quick end as the carriage rounded the final bend.

“Your Highness,” Marinette whispered to the void as she stared down death.

She shut her eyes, somewhat grateful that she would at least see her mother soon, when there was another jarring push from her side before she went tumbling off the road and into the grassy bend along side it. A pair of arms were wrapped tightly around her, one cradling her head while the other was wrapped around her waist in a familiar embrace. She kept her eyes shut tight until the thundering of hooves disappeared back down the road and the weight that pressed her into the ground lifted.

She peaked open a pale blue eye to find the prince laying on top of her, his head blocking out the sun as he sat up over her with a hand placed firmly on either side of her head. He panted from the exertion of racing back down the road, and judging from the way his brow had knit itself together, he wasn’t any happier than Marinette was about the situation.

“Are you crazy?” Adrien said hoarsely, his tone seeming stern but his expression saying he was more worried than angry with her. “Why didn’t you move?”

_Because you told me not to_ , was Marinette’s first choice of responses, but seeing as that would have taken her into a conversation that she wasn’t too keen on having with anyone, let alone a stranger, she instead opted for her second choice. “I would have…” she paused before pushing him off of her, trying to keep him from seeing how red her cheeks had become. “Were it not for your apparent fascination with knocking me to the ground! This is the second time today you realize.”

Prince Adrien pouted somewhat as he rose to his feet along with Marinette, not commenting on how she refused his helpful hand up. He dusted off his black pants and dress shirt, busying himself with the task. “Well then, I’ll try to be more considerate the next time I’m saving you.”

Marinette turned on him once again, ever quick to take up action. “Next time?” She scoffed, slinging her satchel over her shoulder and fiddling with the strap. “What makes you think we’ll see each other again?”

“Well, won't we?”

His quick response caught her off guard and she turned her gaze on him. He wasn’t looking away, wasn’t adjusting his belt or anything like that, but resolutely staring her down with that same childlike hopefulness reflected in his bright green eyes. He looked at her questioningly, as if he couldn’t see any reason for them not to see one another again. As if an interaction between the prince and the daughter of a nobleman was the most normal thing in the world. The look in his eye made her want to believe that it was something achievable, but that was a lie, just like everything else the royal family had promised thus far to it's people.

She smiled softly. “No. I'm afraid not.”

She turned to go when he called after her again. “Marinette of Frell, you are not like other girls.”

Marinette fought back a harsh laugh at how right he was without really realizing it. She ran her hand through her bangs, her eyes drifting back down to where her feet were planted on the road. “You have no idea.”

“Marinette.”

The young girl’s blood ran cold at the sound of her step-sister’s voice. She turned back towards where the prince was now looking surprised at the two newcomers in brightly colored dresses. Chloe smacked on her gum angrily while Sabrina pouted a few steps behind, ever her shadow. Chloe pointed at the spot just in front of her as she tapped her foot impatiently. “Come here. Now.”

Marinette marched past Adrien with her lips pressed tightly together as she stopped in front of her step-sisters. “What.”

Chloe gave a simpering smile, more for Adrien’s benefit than hers as she spoke through tightly grit teeth. “Servants shouldn’t associate with royalty, dear Marinette.”

She lowered his voice to a snarl, the scent of her gum sour and close to Marinette’s face. “Stop flirting with him. I'm the one who’s going to be at his coronation, understand? Not some commoner like you.”

Marinette scoffed sardonically as she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, in the middle of the table with an apple in your mouth.”

Chloe was fuming by then, her ears bright red as she ground her teeth together. “Go back to the mall with Sabrina right now.”

Like every order Chloe had given her thus far, Marinette complied and turned to go back to the mall, back to where she had wanted to be all along but had been ordered away from. She didn’t spare the prince another look as she and Sabrina started their long journey back to the mall opening.

In her wake, Adrien’s expression fell as he took a step to go after her. “Marinette-“

“Oh, please.” Chloe said languidly as she sidestepped to block his path, trying to smile as sweetly as possible though it wasn’t all that convincing. “Don't bother with her, yuck. I'm the one you want.”

Her voice took on a dreamlike quality as she gazed affectionately at Prince Adrien, though it appeared more like a crazed fascination from his perspective. “I know everything about you. I've got posters, pictures and every newspaper clipping you’ve ever appeared in back at home.” She took a step forward as Adrien took a step back, his fight or flight instinct overwhelming in the moment. “And when we used to live in Lamia, I used to stand outside your castle and watch you turn your lights on and off.”

She made it sound like it was the most romantic thing she had ever heard, but right then Adrien was starting to think that he preferred the mob that had been chasing after him earlier. He rubbed his now nervously sweaty hands down his pants legs, eyes darting from side to side, looking for an escape. He swallowed hard. “Tell Marinette I’ll be in touch.”

With that, he turned tail and fled back down the lane, hoping to back track back to the carriage without seeing any more crazed women. Left in his dust, Chloe pouted disapprovingly as she went back to chewing her gum angrily, hands placed firmly on her hips. “Right. Like that’ll ever happen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three, here it be. Honestly I wrote this so long ago I don't really remember what its about. I do remember that Adrien is in it which is VERY important. 
> 
> Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
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> 
> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment of a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	5. Chapter 5

Marinette wasn’t sure how she had managed to wander back to the mall after such an odd day, but there she was, an hour after her step-sister had ordered her back, window shopping with Rose, whom she had managed to track back down. She was trying her best to dodge every questioning glance that Rose sent her, but eventually her friend must not have been able to stand the small talk any more.

“Where were you?” Rose squeaked worriedly after Marinette asked her opinion on a pair of rather pretty gemstone earrings. Marrinette’s finger drooped where it hovered over the asking price before letting out a slight sigh. It was a simple question really, a perfectly reasonable one in the scheme of things, but then again, Rose didn’t know the order of events. Marinette would probably have them burned into her psyche for the rest of her days but the only thing that she could think of as an answer was, “Oh.”

“Oh?” Rose asked incredulously, her voice raising to an almost impossible octave. Those who were passing them by outside the shops paused to look, one old woman even jumping, but if Rose noticed she didn’t seem to acknowledge it. “You left abruptly only to reappear like nothing happened and all you can say is ‘Oh’?”

Marinette bit the inside of her lip, mulling over how exactly she should go about explaining. She couldn’t hide it per say, Rose had already guessed the something was up, and she wouldn’t call it quits until she got a proper answer. Then again, the proper answer wasn’t one that sounded completely believable.

Marinette’s hand dropped to her side and she readied herself for a concussive blast. “I met the prince.”

“You did what!” Rose squeaked in a key that made Marinette’s ears ring violently. Her friend took her hand abruptly, shaking with excitement that was as obvious as the nose on her face and nearly crushing Marinette’s fingers in her grip. “You met the prince?”

Marinette shushed her to be quiet as more and more people looked their direction. At least Rose sounded like she believed her, more than she could say for herself, but the more she thought about it, the more real it became.

Golden hair.

Bright mint colored eyes.

A charming smile.

Oh yes, she most certainly had met the prince of the realm. Still, that didn’t mean it was a topic she was thoroughly comfortable talking about.

“I’d rather not talk about it, Rose, it wasn’t something I was entirely comfortable with.” She dropped her voice to a groan at the thought of what transpired later on in her surprise run in with Prince Adrien. “Chloe and Sabrina popped up.”

Rose wasn’t one for coarse language or anything less than an happy smile, but in that moment her cheeks puffed up and her lips tightened into the smallest of lines. Marinette couldn’t help but think of the puffer fish they had learned about in biology a few weeks previous. “Chloe! Always ruining our fun.”

Much to her surprise, Rose turned her sour expression on Marinette. “Why do you always do what she tells you? I can see you don’t want too, but for some reason you always obey her.”

Marinette’s eyes darted around the square, desperate for an escape route from that conversation or from the mall all together by that point. They were venturing into an uncomfortable topic as they had many times before, but today Marinette didn’t think she had the wit to spin a convincing yarn for her friend. A tight and raspy laugh raked up her throat. “I do not. What makes you say that?”

“Yes, you do!” Rose retorted, quickly leaving Marinette no time to think of a response.

“I don’t!”

“Tell the truth!” Rose stated absolutely. The response couldn’t help but fly past Marinette’s lips before she could keep them back. “You’re right, I do.”

Rose wound her arm tightly through the crook of Marinette’s, tugging her close as they once again browsed the shop goods. She shook her head at the ground, her short and shiny blonde hair rustling from side to side. “You’ve been acting odd, Marinette, even for your standards.”

Sometimes Marinette forgot that despite all the daisy chains, smily faces and i’s dotted with hearts, Rose was no idiot and remarkably perceptive when she wanted to be. She was closing in on Marinette’s behavior which was something she was becoming more and more aware of, something that made her incredibly nervous. Naturally, Marinette continued to do that same grainy laugh that she always fell back on whenever she was at a loss for words. What words did come weren’t all that intelligible. “Me? Odd? I’ve gotta be kidding you. I mean, you’re gotta be kidding me. I’ve never been odd a day in my life!”

Before Rose could manage to acknowledge that everything her friend had just done was the essence of odd, Marinette spotted two bright dresses paused a little ways ahead of them. Without a moment’s hesitation, she pulled away from Rose’s intertwined arm and dove behind a stack of mead barrels that were stacked precariously atop one another outside a brewery's shop opening. She closed her eyes and prayed that somehow, today would be the day she would be blessed with invisibility.

Rose paused in the middle of the breezeway and stared outright at her, destroying any chance of her prayer coming true. Marinette hissed at the half-elf. “Don’t stare at me! What if she notices?”

Rose rolled her big blue eyes and waited exasperatedly beside her friend’s hiding spot. She looked like someone had just dropped a ton on her shoulders. “This is what I mean when I say that you’re acting weirder than normal, Marinette.”

She reached over and tugged at Marinette’s hands, trying to pull her to her feet. Marinette squirmed and scuffed her boots at the ground in hopes to keep her place behind the barrels. “Rose, no!”

Her protesting fell on deaf ears and once again, Rose proved herself to be more than meets the eye as she pulled Marinette out from her hiding spot and back out into the sightline of anyone walking the breezeway. Marinette visibly flinched when she heard the nasal call from her step-sister at the other end of the walkway. “Smellinette. Come here.”

Marinette jerkily stood and like a marionette with an uptight puppeteer, she started her awkward stroll down the lane to where her step-sisters waited patiently. She silently cursed her own muscles as they worked against her to bring her to an abrupt stop in front of Chloe and Sabrina. Chloe blew a large bubble, the excess spit sprinkling Marinette’s face while Sabrina hastily closed the purse she always had at her side, but not before Marinette caught sight of two bottles of nail polish that she naturally hadn’t paid for. Marinette schooled her features into a look of contempt to try and disguise the discomfort she had been overwhelmed by all day. “What now, Chloe? Haven’t you ruined my day enough already?”

Chloe pursed her lips as she eyed her step-sister and Marinette knew that her day was about to get far worse than it already had been. “You’re so weird, Marinette. Everything about you is just weird.”

“Yes, thank you, Chloe. Tell me something I haven’t already been made aware of.”

“And I think I’ve figured out what it is that makes you so weird.”

Panic seized Marinette’s very soul as Chloe sauntered away from the display table for some assorted knickknacks. She suddenly became very aware that her hands were shaking and her every breath was becoming more and more labored. Surely Chloe couldn’t have found it out? She had been so careful for so long, where did she slip up?

Chloe pointed a yellow painted finger towards the table where a pretty daisy pendant sat among the clutter. “Take that.”

Marinette’s arm snapped away from her side and in a flash, the pendant had vanished from the table and now sat in the secluded confines of her satchel. Marinette bit her lip and slowly pulled her hand out of the bag. Bad enough Chloe had taken her mother’s pendant, now she had Marinette stealing one from a shop! 

Sabrina’s eyes lit up with utter delight at what had just transpired and took the opportunity to indulge her own kleptomaniac tendencies without getting her own hands dirty. “Let me try, Chloe! Take that!”

There was one less figurine on the table top.

“And that potion bottle!”

Away it went into Marinette’s purse while her subconscious screamed at her to stop. Marinette yanked her hand from her bag and placed them firmly behind her back, hoping that that would curb their traitorous tendencies long enough for her to get a word in edge wise on the situation. “Fine! Fine, you found me out now please, stop this!”

Chloe’s pink lips curled into a savage smile and Marinette feared for her own safety for what felt like the millionth time that day. “I think I decide when this is over, Smellinette! And I say that I want one more thing. I’ve had my eye on them all day and think they’d be the best thing to wear to the club meeting tomorrow.”

Chloe turned towards the object of her desire and Marinette could have sworn she heard the village bell’s mournful ring in the distance as a sign of her imminent destruction. Marinette’s lip quivered as she tried to keep herself from outright obeying and pocketing the beautiful golden slippers that she had seen earlier before the opening ceremony. “Please, Chloe, please. Don’t make me do this.”

Chloe scoffed. “I’m sorry, is that disobedience I’m hearing? I’m afraid that’s not allowed, dear step-sister. Now take them!”

Marinette obeyed, shaking her head as she crossed the square from where her step-sisters watched like the vultures they were as the young woman’s shaky hand reached out and snatched the slippers from their velvet pillow and stuffed them into her satchel. Marinette stifled a sob while a small voice at the back of her mind tried to look on the bright side. So far she had been a pretty successful thief for having never tried it before. If Chloe really did take complete control of her life, maybe she had a chance at being one of those notorious thieves that gets books written about them.

The hope died as quickly as it came, trampled to dust when a soldier who had been eyeing her suspiciously for sometime howled at her to stop. Marinette froze, her heart pounding like a bass drum in her ear, and she made a move to put them back and make an excuse; she had done it on a dare (which she sort of had), she was confused and not in her right mind (not a complete lie), she worked for the shop and was taking them to the back to be put away.

But she was never given the chance. From across the square, Chloe shouted, “Run Marinette!”

With that order, Marinette’s feet defied her normal affinity for clumsiness and she bolted from the shoe shop, agilely dodging through the crowd as she tried escape the soldiers that were now hot on her heels.

_What have you gotten yourself into, Marinette!_ She scolded herself as her arms pumped and her legs worked overtime, jumping the odd cart or box or taking the stairs two at a time up the staircase to the second floor. She wasn’t quite sure where she was going, she was only hoping to get away when another set of soldiers appeared at the end of the breezeway in front of her.

“Stop right there!”

Marinette yelped as she skidded to a stop, eyes darting around, always on the look out for an escape route when she landed on a banner that stretched from one side of the square’s upper floor to the other. It wasn’t the best means of escape, but it was the only one she had. Her fingers fumbled at the knot that tied the banner to the breezeway’s railing and she could hear the heavy thumping of the soldiers’ armored boots closing in. Finally, it came loose and in one fell swoop, Marinette was over the railing and falling through the air clutching the banner. Somewhere below her, she could have sworn she heard Chloe laughing.

The banner started to tear under her weight, bringing Marinette to the ground much faster than she had originally planned, and with a heavy thump she touched down. Despite the shock, adrenaline sent her running back across the square and towards the only exit she knew. Vendors hocked and hooted at the customers who got within grabbing distance of their kiosks, but only Marinette, to her dismay, gave them the time of day.

The teenager from that morning was still trying to get someone, anyone, to buy his squirrel log, his determination undeterred by the indifference of passerby.

“Buy a squirrel log!” He called, holding out the monstrosity in one hand causing Marinette to almost run face first into it. “Get ‘em while they’re hot!”

Within moments, Marinette had grabbed the squirrel log from the vendor’s hand and choked down a bite. She coughed and gave the vendor a thumbs up. “Great stuff.”

Behind her, the soldiers had descended the stairs and were starting to close in again. Marinette flinched and ducked around the poor young man. “Sorry! Must be going.”

“Hey! You didn’t pay for that!” The young man shouted after her, but Marinette was already running again, ducking past as many vendors as she could avoid. There were some that managed to pull her aside - one woman sprayed some foul perfume on her when she asked her to try it out. Eventually, Marinette gave up being nice in favor of simply getting away.

“Get out of the way! Move.” She howled and most customers would dodge out of her path before she managed to get close. She was almost to the gate, she could see the opening out onto the village street when the unthinkable happened.

Two men from the the brewery shop were rolling out a barrel from the shop, going off to who knows where with it, but it was obvious that they weren’t going to be out of the way fast enough.

“Get out of the way!” Marinette whined, her legs still pumping as she made her approach. She was so close, just a little bit further and she would get lost in the village streets and be away from this nightmare, but only if she could make it past the men and their obstructive load.

Marinette took a deep breath. There was only one way she would make it out of there without getting caught. She made her approach, pushing her aching body to move even faster than what her adrenaline had pushed her and made the critical leap over the rolling barrel. For a moment, she could see the light at the end of the tunnel. She was going to make it.

Until one of the soldiers had the bright idea to tell her to freeze.

There was a lot about Marinette’s gift that she didn’t understand, what with it being bestowed by an all-powerful fairy. She could never quite comprehend what it meant to receive a magical gift or the extent it could wreak havoc on her life until she suddenly froze in midair, suspended in her less than graceful leap above the brewery workers and their mead.

The two men gawked and the soldiers themselves were baffled to say the least when they closed in on the young girl who had had them running in circles. Marinette could no more act in her own defense than she could blink, all the while her brain suddenly going to static at what was happening. It was impossible surely, but as she hung there, caught in the moment while time ticked forward for everyone else, she declared that this was officially the worst day of her life.

One of the soldiers, the one who had originally called after her, dared to step closer. He waved a hand idiotically underneath where Marinette hung over the barrel, as if looking for the wires that kept her suspended. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he motioned one of his fellow men over to remove Marinette’s satchel from her person. She was compliant, of course, it wasn’t as if she had any say in the proceedings.

After they had removed the sum of the stolen goods that Chloe and Sabrina had coerced their bewitched sibling into taking, the lead soldier once again dared to come near to Marinette. He tilted his head quizzically to the side before stating rather hesitantly, “Put your hands together.”

In a knee-jerk reaction, Marinette’s hands slapped themselves together above her head, the shock of the sudden motion causing the gathered townsfolk and soldiers to jump back in alarm. Deeming that this new command overruled the previous order, whatever magic that held her in the air suddenly gave out and Marinette fell to the ground, smashing into the barrel of mead in the process. She choked on the bitter liquid and clumps of her hair that clogged her airway while soldiers swarmed her prone position. One soldier handed the lead man a pair of iron shackles that were snapped around Marinette’s still clasped together hands. As she was pulled to her feet she pleaded in a quiet prayer to the heavens above that if they were merciful, they’d let her be struck down where she stood.

But as she was led out of the open air mall and heard the sadistic laughter of her step-sisters, she couldn’t help but reprimand herself for such a childish thought. Surely if there were mercy in this life she would have been struck down long before this ever happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four Bites the dust! Next week will be a kind of bonus chapter, staring everyones favorite boy of course in the lead, before going back to the main plot of the movie. The bonus chapters will act as a kind of filler for content that the movie didn't have time too or didn't think to add that I thought would be important to the development of the narrative, as seen in the little bonus section in Chapter 2 at the end. 
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> 
> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	6. Chapter 6

Adrien managed to make his way back to the carriage hidden behind the mall’s back gate without having the unfortunate luck of running into anymore screaming girls with his face pinned to their chest. He crawled into the carriage and his father, being the aristocrat he was, merely told his son to straighten his vest without bothering to look up from his book. Adrien complied, his face downcast at his father's ever aloof behavior before the carriage lurched to life.

The countryside whizzed by outside his window once again and Adrien for once wasn’t dwelling on the fact that today had been less than stellar in terms of appearances. There was one bright spot to coming to Frell, and her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He leaned his head against the window edge, closing his eyes as the sun warmed his face, the image of her flickering to life on the inside of his eyelids.

Dark hair.

Blue bell eyes.

A determined look that made his heart skip a beat.

She didn’t even care that she was talking to the future king, in fact she seemed to find it more of a nuisance than an honor like more people would. Then again, he had tackled her to the ground rather senselessly, so it was more his fault for giving a bad first impression than her lack of respect. She was honest, something he valued more than he could ever convey. Most people wanted to just keep him happy, some even willing to lie to do so, but she hadn’t even bothered.

_What makes you think that we’ll see each other again?_

Again, it was an honest statement. Sure, he had her name and could probably go track her down in the palace records to find out more about her - where she lived, what her parents did for a living, whether or not they paid their taxes on time or not, but it was a matter of status more than anything. He was the prince of the realm, only son and heir to the throne of Kyrria, which meant he had eyes on him at all times. Still, a small voice at the back of his mind urged him to see her again.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Adrien’s brow crinkled in thought. He had heard that surname before but he couldn’t place it. On a hunch, he dared to ask his father and his assistant. The prince leaned back in his chair and put on his well practiced bored look as he continued to stare out the window, not absorbing the landscape as much as he had during their first ride down. If he appeared to be too interested in the topic he was posing, his father would be suspicious, and the last thing he needed was him sending an armed battalion to go through Frell in search of a girl Adrien had met in passing.

“Father, who’s the current lord of Frell?” Adrien asked as casually as possible.

From where he sat, King Gabriel let out a contempt sigh, as if he couldn’t believe that his son couldn’t remember the name of some obscure lord in some obscure territory of theirs. “Why do you ask.”

“You said I should take an interest in governing. I assumed that knowing the names of the nobility within our kingdom would be a part of that since whatever I decree, they’re the first people to be affected by it,” Adrien answered flatly, hoping his excuse sounded genuine enough for his father despite having been made up on the fly.

King Gabriel stared his son down for a moment more before waving a hand at his assistant. “Natalie, what were the names of the noblemen in Frell?”

Adrien tried not to roll his eyes at the fact that his father didn’t even know them but dared to think of his son as incompetent. Natalie quickly rifled through her papers before pulling out a specific one. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she read the names, “Lord Dupain and Lady Mendeleiev, recently married after the death of his first wife Lady Cheng.”

Adrien’s heart twisted in his chest. Her mother had died. He knew the pain of that more than anyone. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope rise up in him. Lord Dupain and Lady Cheng. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

King Gabriel must have saw a glimmer of emotion in his son’s false countenance because he once again closed his book to give him a hawkish look, like he had zeroed in on a wily piece of prey. “Adrien,” He asked flatly. “What’s with the sudden interest in Frell.”

Adrien stifled the urge to squirm in his seat like he often had done under his father's scrutinizing gaze. “Just a passing curiosity. I thought I remembered the name from the noblemen’s convention.”

He didn’t know if his father was completely satisfied with his lie, but when he inclined to pick up his book once again and leave his son alone, Adrien let out a mental sigh of relief. He was in the clear and he finally had a starting point in terms of tracking her down again. But how would he manage to see her again? Sure, if she was a nobleman’s daughter then that made things a little easier, but the pretense would be something hard to come by.

“Don't forget, Adrien,” Natalie suddenly chirped from where she sat beside his father. She also didn’t bother to look up from her papers as she filed through them quickly, no doubt trying to track down a copy of their all too busy schedules. “You have a fitting for your coronation this afternoon.”

Adrien flinched at the realization of what Natalie had just said. She had just given him the solution to his problem without even realizing it. He was going to be crowned king, which meant that the nobility of the realm would be invited to his coronation ball followed by his real coronation the next day. Nobility meant the nobility of Frell which meant there was his in with seeing the enchanting Marinette.

Maybe there was a use for the hall of records after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS CHAPTER: Meaning that this wasn't in the movie but its gonna be in this version because as we all know, you can never have too much Adrien Agreste. 
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> 
> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	7. Chapter 7

 

“A felon in my own family!”

Marinette cringed as her step-mother’s strangled cry echoed through their living room. The older woman had collapsed dramatically upon their sofa while Marinette stood awaiting her punishment. Naturally, it had been Dame Mendeleiev who had had to come to the jail to release her step-daughter in the place of her father. Marinette had been forced to listen to the dame’s horrified chattering over everything from Marinette’s appearance to her atrocious behavior on the way home. She pressed her hand to her forehead as she stared up at the ceiling. “I could die from embarrassment.”

From where she sat folding laundry, Marinette caught Tikki muttering haughtily under her breath. “Promises, promises.”

The young girl tried not to laugh at the comment when Dame Mendeleiev suddenly sat up, pointing an accusatory finger at her. It was times like these that Marinette could truly see how she and Chloe could be related. Their mutual love for the dramatics was uncanny. “You are an absolute disgrace.”

_Why do I have a feeling she’s been waiting to say that since we met?_ Marinette sighed to herself, hoping that if she just took whatever verbal battering the dame had further in store that this would all be over quickly. After the day that she had experienced, Marinette wanted nothing more than to go up to her room and sleep for a week.

Tikki pushed the laundry off to the side on the dining room table, pushing her chin into her hand with the roll of her eyes. Marinette had never known Tikki to be so standoffish to anyone, but it seemed like it had become her default mood whenever dealing with her new mistress and her demanding daughters. “Did you ever think that she might have been put up to it? Marinette typically isn’t one to do something so outrageous.”

“Tikki’s right, Mother,” Chloe crooned from where she sat with Sabrina in the breakfast nook, flipping through a magazine with the prince’s face plastered on the cover. She flipped the page with an innocent expression that looked out of place on Marinette’s snarky step-sister. Chloe set aside her magazine and rose to hover at her mother’s shoulder alongside the couch. “We were there, after all. It really wasn’t poor Marinette’s fault. She was forced to do all those absolutely horrendous deeds.”

Marinette’s eyes narrowed in her step-sister’s direction. Surely this couldn’t be a confession, Chloe would never be that forth coming with information, especially if it ended up incriminating her. Her heartbeat had started to pick up. Marinette suddenly felt like she was being cornered and she was not enjoying the experience.

Dame Mendeleiev looked from her daughter to her step-daughter quizzically, her hands folded on her lap as she stared down Marinette. “So, Marinette, who put you up to it?”

Marinette’s answer was on the tip of her tongue, fully prepared to expose her wicked step-sisters for the troublemakers they were when Chloe rounded on her. She had moved from her mother’s arm to perch at the mantle just behind Marinette. Marinette’s heart seized in her chest when the young woman whispered a sneering command into her ear. “Tell her it was Rose.”

“Ro - “ Marinette’s voice caught in her throat as she stamped down her every instinct to obey and accuse her friend. No, Marinette wouldn’t allow Chloe to do this, not after all the mayhem that she had already inflicted that day. But still, the gift compelled her to lie against her better judgement.

Dame Mendeleiv’s long pale fingers tapped impatiently on her knee as she stared down the dark haired young woman. “Well? Im waiting. Tell me who’s to blame.”

Hot tears pricked in Marinette’s eyes as he voice squeaked out barely above a whisper. “Rose.”

She saw Tikki instinctively flinch where she sat, knowing a lie when she heard one right off the bat as Dame Mendeleiev took it hook, line and sinker. She jumped to her feet with a huff, taking her fan from the table beside the sofa and waving it about her as she shrieked once more. “Rose! I might have guessed such mischief from a halfling.”

Dame Mendeliev suddenly turned on her and without knowing the permanence of her words, spoke demandingly to her step-daughter. “You are forbidden ever to see her again.”

Something broke deep inside Marinette as her will rose to comply with the order. She couldn’t fight it, no her step-mother’s words were to firm and the command too binding for her to try. She would have to obey and the most suffocating feeling of all was that only she and Tikki seemed to understand the gravity of the situation the young woman had been placed in.

“Dame Mendeleiv, please, reconsider.” Tikki pleaded from where she now stood alongside her young ward, desperate to change the older woman’s mind. 

Outside, a high pitched sing-song of a voice chirped along with a polite knock on the front door. “Marinette? Are you home?”

Marinette wanted to scream, to tell Rose to get away as far as possible before her step-mother or step-sisters forced her to do something even worse than what had already been put in motion, but Dame Mendeleiev was quicker.

“How dare she come here now.” She turned on Marinette with a cold look in her eye as if it were her fault for everything wrong happening in the older woman’s life besides the besmirching of their name in Frell. “Answer the door and tell her that you never want to see her again.”

“And that you could never be friends with a halfling!” Chloe chimed in with a snicker from behind.

Marinette’s hand shook as she clasped them together pleadingly. “Please, Dame Mendeleiev.”

The older woman looked at her with her lip curled in disgust. “Don’t argue! Just do it.”

Marinette was dragged from her spot in front of the fireplace towards the front door, holding back tears as she prayed to every being she knew to let this stop before she was forced to do the worst action possible against her best friend. Her fingers were trembling as she slowly undid the latch on the front door.

Rose stood patiently on the porch, wide-eyed and concerned, her hands clasped before her as she breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness you’re all right.”

Noticing the distress that Marinette wasn’t doing anything to hide, Rose’s face fell, her big blue eyes looking at her friend worryingly as she took her hand. “Hey, what’s wrong? The dame didn’t do anything horrible to you, right? If you need me to I can try and explain - “

“I never wanna see you again.”

The words hung there in the humid evening air between them and for a moment Marinette hoped that Rose hadn’t heard her. But when Rose’s eyebrows knit together confusedly, Marinette knew that hope had been in vain.

Rose managed a weak laugh, squeezing Marinette’s hand in hers. “Ha-ha. Very funny.”

When Marinette didn’t crack a smile at what Rose assumed was a joke her face fell again, her gaze darting all over Marinette’s face to look for some kind of hint at deception from her friend. “I don’t understand. We’re best friends.”

Marinette felt hot tears spill down her cheeks as she kept her white knuckled grip on the door, her throat closing from the weight of emotion that racked her thin frame. “I-I could never be f-friends… with a halfling.”

The look on Rose’s face made Marinette sob harder, her small friend’s voice breaking as she forced a smile, wringing her hands in front of her pleadingly. “But Marinette-“

“Just go.”

With that, Marinette closed the door in Rose’s innocently confused face.

“Good riddance! I couldn’t stand that girl,” Dame Mendeleiev said haughtily from where she fanned herself by the fireplace, her nose turned up. “Besides being a halfling, that perfume of hers was absolutely ghastly!”

“Stop it! Just stop it.” Marinette howled before plowing past where Chloe and Sabrina stood smugly to race up to her bedroom, Tikki’s footsteps bounding along after her.

#

“I’ve done some terrible things before, Tikki, but this is the worst thing the curse has ever made me do.”

Marinette had curled up in her bed, clutching her favorite black cat plushy that Tikki had made for her when she was little, just after her mother had died. Its ears were worn from where Marinette had rubbed them threadbare and had a fraying pink ribbon wrapped around its neck. She was fond of him, her little black cat, but as much as he had comforted her in the past he was doing little to ease her pain in that moment. This had finally pushed her towards the ultimate decision of what she had been considered for the past few months in her darker moments.

“I’ve gotta do it.” Marinette declared, her gaze lifting towards her open window that looked out onto the village houses and sprawling fields beyond them. “I’ve got to find Plagg and get him to take back this curse.”

Tikki had been sitting silently at her bedside after locking the door behind them after following Marinette in. Besides rubbing Marinette’s back when she was crying, the house fairy had been staring off into the distance contemplating something very weighty judging by the expression on her face. When Marinette made her decision, Tikki merely looked at her like she hadn’t said anything at all, her glassy blue eyes calm as could be. She gently reached over and took one of Marinette’s hands in her own, stopping the young lady from doing any more damage to her fraying old cat. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s not going to be easy, but if you say that you mean it, I’ll support you all the way.”

Marinette didn’t need to be asked twice. She squeezed her companion’s hand firmly. “Tikki, I cant keep living like this. I need to find Plagg.”

Tikki seemed to ponder something again for a moment longer before returning the reassuring squeeze of Marinette’s hand. “You’re right,” she said, “Which means you’ll be needing help. Come with me. I have something to show you.”

The two young women snuck gingerly from Marinette’s room, Tikki to avoid doing any more distracting chores and Marinette to avoid the fallout of her previous outburst at her step-mother. They made their way down the stairs, past the kitchen and into a small sunroom located at the back of the house towards the garden. It had been Tikki’s for as long as Marinette could remember and was covered in colorful plants and flowers of every hue. Her little sun bed was covered in vivid pillows that she had embroidered herself while her sewing station where she mended their clothes was stacked with more of Chloe and Sabrina’s wildly flamboyant dresses. It was where Marinette had learned to love sewing and fabric and every time she came in there felt like she was more at home than she was in the main house. This place hadn’t changed despite everything that had since her mother had passed and her father had remarried.

Alongside Tikki’s bed was a small bookcase filled with books on botany and plant care along with old picture albums from before she had come to work for Sir Tom and his family. Marinette used to look at them in wonder of all the places her friend had been, but there was one book that Marinette had never been allowed to touch and her childlike curiosity was piqued when she saw Tikki reach to pull it from it’s dusty place among her other books.

It was a monstrous thing, far larger and thicker than any of the other books that Tikki kept in her small space, and was bound in cream colored leather with red piping and little green jewels inset at the corners and on the binding. On its cover was what looked like a dark piece of opaque glass that Marinette could tell was worn and smudged with Tikki’s fingerprints.

Tikki held the book close to her chest, the glass cover facing away from Marinette as the young fairy bit her lip. “I should have told you about this years ago, but to be honest, I was a little embarrassed about it.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the thought of Tikki keeping any secrets from her. She had even told Marinette about the time that she took a cookie from the bakery only to go back and pay for it when her parents weren’t looking out of guilt. What could a book conceal that was worth hiding? “Embarrassed? How could you be embarrassed? It’s just a book.”

Tikki held the book a little tighter, her eyes darting around the room frantically. “Well, as you know, Im not well-suited for house fairy magic. It’s not really in my house of talents, but I manage to do the small things for your parents. Sometimes, though, my spells don’t exactly go right.”

Marinette nodded for her to continue, knowing full well that Tikki used to do what Plagg had done to her only much better and with a higher customer satisfaction rate that Tikki proudly boasted about. But years ago, she dropped out after an accident with a spell gone wrong and had ended up with Marinette’s parents as their house fairy.

“Right before I dropped out of the gift giving area of magic, I tried to do a kind of housewife spell and long story short, this book…” she spun the book around quickly to reveal the cover with the glass inset facing Marinette. “Is my boyfriend, Wayzz.”

The glass suddenly swirled to life and in a swirl of green smoke, a tanned young man with neatly combed back vibrant green hair and matching colored eyes looked out of the books mirror. He had a warm smile and, despite being only a head, looked like a pretty normal person.

“Hello!” He said rather enthusiastically, his head bobbing to and fro in his glassy oval. “Pleased to meet you! Pleased to meet anyone, quite frankly. You are the first introduction that I have had in 20 years.”

Marinette slowly held the heavy book in her hands, looking star struck as she turned it over and around, but deeming that it wasn’t a trick, looked up at Tikki in awe as she was struck by a sudden realization. She had seen Wayzz before. “This is him! This is the guy from your photo album!”

Tikki gingerly plucked the book from her hands, smiling thoughtfully at the man trapped in the cover. “He sure is.” She looked at her young ward guiltily as she cradled the book in her arms. “Im sorry I kept this from you, Marinette, but I didn’t want anyone to know because if they did, they might take him away.”

“How did this happen?” Marinette asked, her eyes still fixated on the floating head as Wayzz smiled up at Tikki lovingly.

“I told you, I’m not very good with house spells, and one day I tried to use a spell to trim his hair and, well, this happened.” Tikki looked down at Wayzz, suddenly crestfallen. “I didn’t have much motivation to do any gift giving after that.”

“She’s been beating herself up for years,” Wayzz said somberly, trying to crane his bodiless head to catch Tikki’s eye. “But I keep telling her I love her no matter what has happened.”

Tikki smiled at him fondly. “I love you too, my little Pooky Pages.”

“Not as much as I love you, Cuddlebuns.”

“I love you more -“

“Okay!” Marinette cut them both off› abruptly, reminding them that they weren’t as alone as they probably wanted to be in that moment. It was nice to know that Tikki had someone who loved her as much as Marinette did, but now was not the most opportune of moments to watch them gush over their love for one another. “I’m super happy that you both are so in love, but my problem?”

Tikki righted herself nodding vigorously. “Right!” She held out the book to Marinette who looked down at Wayzz in a kind of mutual surprise. “I want you to take him with you.”

Wayzz let out a shriek of happiness, the cover of his book opening and the pages flipping wildly as he spoke. “You mean I'm finally leaving? I finally get to see what lays beyond these four walls? There are so many places in my pages I’ve been wanting to see and visit!”

He landed on an expansive map of the Kingdom of Kyrria, spanning every county and village from Frell to Lamia. Marinette gripped the book in wonder as she combed over the map. “Wow. What is all this?”

Tikki practically glowed with pride as she handed the book back over to Marinette. “Wayzz knows everything.”

“Thanks love,” Wayzz crooned from the underside of the book, “But I don’t know everything. If I did, I would be a lot thicker.”

“Can he show me anything about Plagg?” Marinette asked, not seeing much of a point to Tikki’s bookish boyfriend if he didn’t have any useful information.

Wayzz scoffed as if that were the simplest question in the world. “Can I show you anything about Plagg?” He parroted back to the young woman as Tikki took him back and closed the book.

Tikki grinned. “Watch this.” She looked down at Wayzz calmly before asking, “Show me Plagg.”

She opened the book and within seconds the pages had flipped and flitted to a page that showed none other than the mischievous man himself perusing what looked like a local Crockery Barn.

“Ta-da!” Wayzz declared proudly as his assistant girlfriend held out the book once more for Marinette to view.

“Wow. Cool trick,” Marinette said in awe, pouring over the moving picture to look for any type of clue as to where Plagg could be. “Can you tell me which Crockery Barn it is? They’re all over the kingdom.”

Tikki grimaced slightly, her shoulders drooping. “That’s the problem. He can’t tell you where the person is exactly, only show you pictures of where they are. Kind of like a crystal ball or a magic mirror.”

Marinette nodded, a little more crestfallen than she had been when they started, but none the less hopeful. She hadn’t had this much to be excited about in a while. She looked closer at the aisles Plagg walked down before noticing the scale of everything. It outsized Plagg greatly, even the normal kitchen utensils built more to sword specifications than cutlery. She watched Plagg walk up to what appeared to be a gargantuan wedding registry and float up to where he could get a better view of the list.

“Why is everything so big?” Marinette asked. “Is he looking at a wedding registry? Who would invite him to their wedding?”

“Probably someone who doesn’t know him that well,” Tikki scoffed before looking the picture over herself. A few moments later she pulled away and tapped herself on the head in frustration. “Duh! He’s in Giantville. He’s going to a wedding in Giantville.”

“Figures the only people who can put up with him are the ones who can step on him,” Marinette huffed as a brilliant smile broke out on her face. Despite how horribly the day had ended up, she was finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. “Wayzz, we’re going to Giantville.”

The book crooned in delight at the prospect of adventure. “How exciting.”

From just outside, Marinette and her companions heard the shrill cry of her step-mother calling to her from the parlor. “Marinette, the girls and I need bouquets for our portrait sitting tomorrow. Go and pick some.”

Marinette felt the all too familiar tug on her conscious to go out and do as her step-mother told her. She handed back Wayzz to Tikki and told her to be ready later that evening. Marinette was getting out of Frell that night if it killed her.

As she perused the garden just outside Tikki’s sunroom, Marinette couldn’t help but spot a large clump of poison ivy on the other side of the road that ran in front of their home. A wicked grin spread across her face. If she was going to be leaving her dear step-mother and step-sisters behind, she might as well leave them something to remember her by.

#

The next morning, Tikki watched with amusement as the dame and her daughters broke out in hives due to the poison ivy that had been snuck into their colorful bouquets, their painted personage covered in the same angry red welts that they had spreading across their skin. As Tikki set to work preparing a salve to stop their itching, she looked out over the garden where she had bid adieu to her closest friend and the love of her life and whispered a prayer for their safe travel.

“Good luck, Marinette.” She said to herself. “May you find everything you’re looking for.”

_So, as her stepfamily scratched their newly found itches, Marinette was off, glad to be rid of the... witches._

###

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN! DRAMA. Chapter Five is up and waiting for you to read! This is where the rubber meets the road story wise for sure so keep tuning in!
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
> Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shelbyecandraw  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/shelbyecandraw  
> Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> 
> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	8. Chapter 8

Marinette wasn’t sure how she was feeling as she walked through the outer fringes of the Forest of Pim. She wasn’t sure if the shaking in her hands was from nerves or from excitement at the thought of finally being out on her own. She wasn’t sure if the feeling in her stomach was because of anticipation or if she was going to throw up from sheer fear of facing the unknown. On top of all that emotion, she was fairly sure that she had no idea where she was going, so as she padded down the well-worn path under the cool shade of the canopy, she held out her new companion for a reference.

“Wayzz? Can you show me a map of the Forest of Pim, please?”

“Of course, Marinette.” The man in the book said politely as she opened his front cover and watched a perfectly drawn map materialize on the previously blank pages. She was never going to get used to that.

“Whoa,” She said, a grin spreading across her face as she balanced the heavy book in one hand so that she could run her other hand over the map’s heavily embroidered surface. She narrowed in on about where she believed they were walking before carefully tracing a line through the forest, following a path much shorter than the one she had intended to go down.

“Okay, so, according to this map, if we head due east towards Monster Rock, we can cut half a day off of our journey!” She said giddily as she thought of what that entailed. Half a day less before she would be free of her curse and finally know what it was like to be her own person.

“The faster we get out of here the better,” Wayzz whimpered, the edges of his pages ruffling slightly as if a shiver had managed to run down his spine. “I don’t like the feel of this place, Marinette. Are you sure there isn’t another way to Giantville?”

“Wayzz, you’re the one who told me to go this way.” Marinette sighed exasperatedly. Wayzz had proved to be a useful companion and pleasant company for the most part, but Marinette was quickly learning that he was lacking when it came to courage.

“Oh. Yes, well, I suppose I did,” The book replied sheepishly as Marinette went back to studying the map in her arms. Farther down the path came a sharp cry that pulled Marinette away from her studying.

“What was that?” She asked, eyes darting around the forest canopy and undergrowth for any sign of life that could have made such a sound. She hadn’t encountered them, but rumors were that ogres still roamed the Forest of Pim and they hadn’t been kind to travelers since the restrictions were put in place by King Gabriel. She doubted though that an ogre could manage such a high pitched cry, but still her guard was raised as she stopped in her tracks.

“Probably something that wants to eat us,” Wayzz whimpered slightly before Marinette slammed the book shut.

“Ouch!” He yelped as Marinette pouted at him angrily before peering back into the wood beyond the path. She had heard something, she was sure of it.

“Someone help me!”

The cry was louder this time and it was definitely someone in distress. Marinette puffed up her chest, narrowing in on the part of the forest where she thought the cry had come from. “That way, I’m sure of it.”

“You know, typically the protocol is to run away from danger and not toward it,” Wayzz said shrilly as Marinette hiked the hem of her skirt up in order to march through the undergrowth just off the path.

“What if someone’s in danger, Wayzz? It’s our job to help them as good citizens,” Marinette replied, the mention of civility quelling Wayzz’s attempt at arguing with her. If it was one thing he was, it was a good citizen as Marinette had learned when she tried to walk across the road in the last village without using the crosswalk.

“Jaywalking is against the rules, my dear,” he had said as he chided her for her lack of forethought, “And if we are to behave in a civilized world, we must first act as civilized people.”

Marinette stepped cautiously through the undergrowth towards the distinct cry of what she thought was another young woman and the snarly laughs of her captors. She toted Wayzz under one arm as she hoisted herself over a larger rock that looked out onto a clearing where the most peculiar scene was playing out.

A young woman, much shorter than Marinette, was tied to a crudely made wheel on one side of the clearing while three men took turns throwing knives at her while the wheel spun round and round. She was an elf, by the looks of her, and clearly not enjoying a moment of the proceedings as much as her captors were.

“Sing soprano, little girl!” One of the men called as his friend narrowly missed the tip of the young elf’s pointed right ear.

“Missed!” The thrower barked as he turned to pick up another knife that was laying on a prepared table nearby. Judging by how close he had come the first time, he wasn’t going to be finished until he had drawn some of the elf’s blood with one of his knives. Marinette’s blood began to boil and in spite all of Wayzz’s quiet begging for her to stay out of it, she slid off her perch to march around the large rock and into the men’s camp.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She howled angrily, coming to stand next to the wheel. She held out one booted toe to catch the pegged rim of the wheel, wincing only slightly as they tapped off the end of her foot until the wheel finally slowed to a stop. The young elf girl tied onto it looked a little worse for wear, but despite the case of motion sickness, there was a grateful spark in her eye as she looked down at Marinette who made to untie her wrists first.

“Oi!” One of the men called. He was wearing a beat up looking straw hat and muck covered boots - a farm hand if Marinette had every seen one. “Who’s this who thinks she’s so tough? Take your hands off our play thing.”

Marinette spun on them suddenly, jutting her chin out in what she hoped was a more confident look than how she felt once the adrenaline had died down. “Look, I think it’s only fair to warn you that I’m practiced in the ancient art… of origami!”

The farm hand looked at either of his companions quizzically, the one on his right looking at the upstart young woman a bit incredulously. “Paper folding?”

Marinette could have sworn she heard Wayzz groan under her arm as her bluff crumbled before their very eyes. She curled in on herself slightly, keeping Wayzz close to her chest now as a physical block between herself and the three men. “I, uh, was hoping you wouldn’t know what that was.”

From where she hung, the young elf girl appeared to catch a second wind now that she wasn’t spinning in circles. Her hazel eyes had a dangerous spark burning now as she looked at Marinette with sheer determination. “Don’t let him scare you! ‘All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing,” You can do this!”

“Oi, you stay out of this,” the farm hand growled at the elf girl who retorted by sticking her tongue out at him. He motioned at his two friends to advance and Marinette was quickly regretting not listening to Wayzz as she slowly got surrounded.

“Hey girl! Kick his butt!” The elf girl called and on its own, Marinette’s body auto piloted itself until she ran towards the farm hand and skidded on her side, her leg coming up and in one quick motion, kicking one of his friends in the butt as she was told.

“Hey!” The young man yelped as Marinette rose up from the ground and jumped away from her attackers. From where she hung, the young elf girl cheered in delight at what was happening.

“Now rabbit punch!” She called. Marinette complied, waiting until one of the men leapt at her to effectively dodge out of the way and land a swift punch to the back of his head, sending him sprawling in the dirt where he didn’t move again.

The other two attackers had rounded her on either side in the mayhem and the farm hand lunged to grab Marinette by the pigtails.

“Drop!” The elf girl called frantically and Marinette fell on her back like a rag doll, narrowly avoiding the farm hand’s outstretched hand as he fumbled and tripped over her now sprawled out body. While he struggled to right himself, his companion grabbed one of Marinette’s ankles with a smug look on his face. Little did he know his prisoner had other plans.

“Front-step kick!” At the command, Marinette’s free foot quickly came up and kicked the young man in the chin, sending him flying onto his back into the dirt where he lay dazed, staring up at the tree covered canopy.

The farm boy was not so easily deterred however, as Marinette pulled herself to her feet and waited for another attack. He circled for a moment, squaring off with the young woman before once again trying to land a punch on her.

“Dragon-roundhouse kick!” The other young woman yelled giddily as she watched Marinette crouch down before launching herself into the air. She quickly twisted her body, her leg lashing out and landing a well placed blow to the side of the farm hand’s neck that sent him into the dirt along with his two companions. He was quick to rise though, but not to fight much to Marinette’s relief. He scampered backward dizzily, he and his other conscious companion dragging their unconscious friend away from the scene.

“This girl is nuts!” The farm hand called as they disappeared back into the undergrowth, leaving an out of breath Marinette to gather her thoughts at what had just happened while her elven friend finally gave into fatigue.

“Wow that was great,” She called groggily, her eyes trained on the ground. She had taken on a sickly pallor as she tugged weakly at the ropes. “Oh man, I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Oh, here.” Marinette said, quickly rushing to the elf’s side to untie her wrists and ankles. Once freed, the young elf girl hopped off of the wheel, taking deep breaths as she stood doubled over with her hands on her knees. “Are you okay?”

“Okay?” The young woman asked quietly before righting herself, her hazel eyes once again alive with that lively spark Marinette had seen before. “I’m fantastic thanks to you!” She held out her hand enthusiastically in Marinette’s direction. “Alya, Alya Césaire of Pim!”

Marinette examined the hand in surprise before looking over her new friend Alya. She was short like most elves, only coming up to Marinette’s shoulder, and dressed in dark green overalls with matching pointed heeled boots and a white blouse tucked underneath it. Her wavy hair went just down past her shoulders and faded from reddish-brown to a coppery color that clashed with her outfit in an oddly pleasing way. She stared Marinette down in a way that made her feel like a deer caught in the headlights, but still she took her hand in her own and gave it a firm shake. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng of Frell. Nice to meet you.”

“Man am I glad you showed up. I was in a real tough spot back there with those three jerks, but you handled them like a champ!” Alya gushed as she bounced on the balls of her feel excitedly. “I can’t believe you took on all three of them at once.”

Marinette gave a nervous laugh, gathering her things from where she had dropped them. She lashed her cloak back around her neck before whispering an apology to Wayzz whom she had dropped face down in the dirt when she was thrown into the chaos. She dusted off her skirt before hugging Wayzz again protectively. “Well, if you’re okay, I need to get going. I hope you make it home alright.”

Alya blinked in surprise before quickly running ahead to block Marinette’s path with her arms outstretched. She was pouting angrily. “You can’t go. This place is too dangerous to be walking on your own, I think my situation just proved that.”

_But I’m not alone_ , Marinette thought to herself though, in the grand scheme of things, Wayzz wasn’t as much of a protector in his current position as Marinette would have liked him to be. Still, she had places more important to be and having Alya along most likely would involve explaining to another person about her curse which she wasn’t really feeling up to at the moment. “But-“

“We can go get something to eat. You hungry?” Alya cut her off, relaxing her arms some from their blocking position.

Marinette looked to the forest just beyond where the path was that would take her to Giantville. “That’s very nice of you, but I’m on a tight schedule.”

Alya pouted again, her hands placed firmly on her hips. “Fine. Message received, Miss ‘I Think I’m All That and Can’t Eat with an Elf.'”

Marinette’s brow furrowed at what she was suggesting and her mind inadvertently wandered back to her best friend Rose who was a half-elf. If anything, Marinette had always liked that half more than her human one and her lack of wanting to eat with Alya had nothing to do with her race. “That isn’t what I meant at all.”

Alya turned her back on Marinette, the pout still prevalent on her face to where the mole on her brow had pinched in because of it. “I extend the hand of friendship-“

“I am on a tight schedule. Were I not-“

“Everybody’s busy,” Alya interrupted Marinette.

“- I would love to get something to eat with you.” Marinette finished.

“Great!” Alya grinned, turning on Marinette with a look in her eyes that suggested that everything had gone exactly as she had planned it to. She reached into one of her overall pockets and produced a flimsy piece of paper. “Because I have a coupon!”

She looped her arm through Marinette’s and together they made their way back towards the main path, going in the opposite direction of the new shorter route that Marinette had planned. While Alya rambled about Marinette’s impressive on the fly fighting skills, Marinette held onto Wayzz protectively, praying silently all the while they walked down the path to somewhere unknown.

_Oh, Mother_ , she thought quietly as she craned her face towards the sky. _What have I gotten myself into now?_

#

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes everyone favorite elf and nosy journalist, Alya Cesaire! Let's see what trouble she'll make hmmmm???
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> 
> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	9. Chapter 9

It was nightfall by the time they made it to the edge of the Elven Encampment in the Forest of Pim. The night air was cool on Marinette’s warm cheeks, walking all day doing a number on her, not to mention trying to keep up with her new friend Alya as they hiked through unknown territory. For someone with such short legs, Alya was extremely hard to keep up with while in her element. Not to mention she had managed to talk all the way from the clearing to just outside of the town. It was then that her new elven friend became eerily silent, something that Marinette found increasingly disturbing the longer it dragged on.

They crept past barrels and in and out of alleyways as they tip toed past brightly lit cabins and outpost towers. Everything there looked relatively normal, like they had wandered in right after everyone had called it quits and decided to turn in for the night. Still, Alya acted as if they were marching through a sleeping dragon’s nest that could roar awake at any false move.

“Not to be rude or anything, Alya, but if this is where you live, why are we sneaking around?” Marinette whispered as they came to crouch behind a horseless cart left just outside of one of the houses.

Alya turned on her, a few shades paler than her normal caramel colored skin. Her eyes were wide and she pointed an accusatory finger in Marinette’s direction. “If they spot you, you’ll be sorry.” She motioned for Marinette to stick close as they crept further up the road.

“You know how all elves are forced to sing and dance?” Alya asked as they walked.

Marinette nodded, glancing at the curtain covered windows and silent buildings as they passed by. “Yeah, so?”

It was then that Marinette’s inherent clumsiness got the better of her and she tripped over a rock in the dirt road, sending her sprawling across the ground. She heard the distant yelp of Wayzz, but judging by how Alya was too busy looking in a panicked frenzy in all directions, she didn’t think she had noticed it.

“Now you’ve done it, girl!” She stage whispered to the young woman as she quickly pulled Marinette to her feet before taking off down the road. “Run for it!”

All around them, the once quiet encampment was starting to come alive. Heads popped up out of no where, doors swung open and windows sent warm buttery shafts of light down onto the road as curtains were thrown open. Elves of all size and color paraded out from every establishment lining the road in a coordinated event that Marinette was sure they had been waiting to spring on them for quite sometime. Some danced, others strummed and played various musical instruments and all of them were singing. Marinette was too entranced to know what was going on, but she had a feeling it was the reason for Alya’s secretive movements throughout their walk.

“Where are we going?” She yelled above the organized chaos. Alya pulled her to a stop as a conga line crossed their path before disappearing down one of the alleyways before taking off at a sprint again.

“I told you, I have a coupon!” Alya replied as they booked it to what looked like a Tavern at the end of the road. “And that means we have to make it there without getting roped into an encore!”

Marinette nodded, not one hundred percent sure why Alya was in such a rush. Everything seemed like fun, from the jugglers on the rooftops to the tap dancers on the look out towers. Maybe she wasn’t one for a good flash mob.

They dodged another mandolin troop before they finally ducked out of the chaos of the street performance and into the warm glow of the Tavern. Alya collapsed at one of the few unoccupied tables and let out a sigh of relief as Marinette took the seat across from her.“Finally. Peace and quiet at last.”

As if to mock Alya’s moment of peace, an elf with black and purple hair in a gaudy sequined number popped up table side, flanked by a woman with skin a shade darker than Alya’s and a shock of pink hair. He let off some rapid-fire chords on his mandolin before diving into song. “Jeremiah was a Bull Frog-“

Alya didn’t let him get very far into his verse before picking up one of their menus and in one swift motion, hitting both of them squarely on the head. “Hit the road! Get outta here!”

Not one to miss another musical opportunity, the purple haired elf and his tambourine playing accomplice struck another chord as they went to find more inviting company. “Hit the road, Jack, and don’t you come back no more, no more, no more, no more…”

Their song faded into background noise as their waitress came by with two waters, but the look in Alya’s eye suggested she might have taken something a tad stronger. Still, she leaned back in her chair and rested her head on the back of her seat, eyes closed. Marinette fiddled with her own drink, taking a few thirst quenching sips before picking Wayzz off of the floor and placing him on the table. She knew how much he hated being set on the floor, one too many times being accidentally stepped on over the years.

Alya’s interested was piqued once again at the book being placed on the table and she quickly sat up in her seat, one hand already placed on the cover and her eyes glowing with curiosity. “I’ve been meaning to ask you since we met, but what’s the deal with this book? Marinette’s secret diary?”

She moved to peek inside the cover, but whatever Alya thought of Marinette, the speed of her hand as she quickly slapped the cover closed again was a testament to her reflexes despite her lack of grace. Marinette forced a smile, suppressing the panic that came whenever Alya got close to seeing just how special her book was. “Yes, it is and I’d rather not let it be exposed in such a crowded place, you know? Too many prying eyes.”

Alya nodded like she understood, but that narrow eyed curiosity still burned as she sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. Marinette guessed it was time for a topic change before Alya went as far as to ask what was really in her diary.

“So, um. Alya. Why don’t you like music?”

There was a distinct shift in Alya’s temperament as she sat forward in her chair, both hands placed flat against the tabletop. “What, because all elves are supposed to be so happy and joyful all the time? Singing and dancing for whoever asks them too? I don’t want to be an entertainer! I wanna be…”

Alya’s look became distant as she sank back into her seat, never finishing her sentence as she got lost in a world Marinette couldn’t see. Now it was time for her curiosity to get the better of her. “What?”

“Nothing,” Alya said in a low voice, her eyes not meeting Marinette’s.

“What were you going to say?” Marinette continued to press, scooting forward in her seat to try and make eye contact with her diminutive friend.

“It’s silly.”

“Please tell me.”

Maybe it was the genuineness in her tone or the fact that Marinette was the only non-elf in the tavern, but Alya took a deep breath and looked at her very seriously. “I want to be a journalist.”

In a complete flip in character, Marinette heard Wayzz snort in a rather undignified manner. “My guess for a small-time newspaper.”

Marinette quietly hissed at her bookish companion as Alya’s attention snapped right to the book cover. “What was that?”

Marinette’s head snapped up and she tried to look as nonchalant as possible. “Nothing!” She shrieked before clearing her throat in an attempt to regain composure. “Why can’t you be a journalist?”

Alya looked at her as if she were the most naive person in the world, which in some ways Marinette probably was, before pointing at the obvious point of her fair ears. “Um, hello? Elf.”

Marinette mentally slapped herself. How could she claim to be a rights activist without remembering one of the most outrageous laws passed against the non-human portion of the kingdom? “I forgot. The elven restriction that King Gabriel passed.”

Alya shook her head and recited the bylaw by heart, something Marinette was sure she had committed to heart the moment she realized her dream was unachievable. “‘No elf shall be engaged in any occupation other than singing, juggling and or tomfoolery.’” Alya withered in her seat, her head resting feebly on her folded arms. “They’re never going to let me into a good writing program.”

She let out a deep sigh, one hand fiddling with the binding on Wayzz. “I’m never going to get to stand before the king and really ask the hard questions of the nobility and say, ‘Someone has to hold you accountable to the atrocities you’ve committed! The truth will be revealed! The hammer of justice will come down upon you!’”

From where he sat on the table, Wayzz’s face flickered on the mirror for a second before making another oddly out of character comment. “I’m pretty sure the hammer of justice needs to pass the height requirement first.”

Alya jumped from her seat, pointing a shaky finger at Wayzz’s cover. “I heard it! It’s coming from the book.”

Marinette attempted to cover the mirror with her hands and smile reassuringly. “No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is,” Alya countered defiantly, her eyes never leaving the book’s cover.

“No, it’s not!” Wayzz cried before disappearing into the inky blackness of his mirror again.

Marinette groaned, laying her head down in her arms. Great, of all the people he could have blurted out to, it had to be the elf who wanted to be a journalist. Word would spread by morning and without Wayzz to guide her, Marinette would never find Plagg. Not to mention whatever Tikki would do to her for losing her boyfriend.

Across from her, Alya took a seat back in her chair and was silent for several anguishing moments before she started to laugh, loud and obnoxiously which caused Marinette to peek up from where she hid behind her arms. “Great. A talking book.”

“You’re not mad?” Marinette whimpered, scared of losing the only two people who treated her normally for the first time in a while.

“Mad? Why would I be mad?” Alya scoffed before taking a long swig of her water. “To be honest, I’m just glad I’m not crazy. Or, well, crazier.”

Alya continued to laugh and after a moment, Marinette joined her as they mocked the absurdity of the situation, Marinette feeling lighter than she had in a while.

###

Things in Frell hadn’t been going nearly as well as Tikki was hoping they would once Marinette left. Then again, she hadn’t had high hopes to begin with, but when she came back from the letter box to see the dame and her horrid children stuffing Marinette’s dresses into a box, somehow civility became a foreign concept.

“What are you doing with Marinette’s things?” Tikki wailed, yanking one of Marinette’s better designs from Chloe’s hands. She had designed it for a May Day celebration months back and it was the pride of Marinette’s fashion work. What they were doing with it, let alone all of Marinette’s other gowns, was beyond Tikki.

“Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!” Chloe huffed before turning on her mother. “Mother, Tikki took one of Marinette’s ugly dresses from me!”

The dame fanned herself on the couch that she typically occupied. She let out a bored sigh before closing her fan and narrowing in on the house fairy. “Tikki, we’re just tidying up a few of Marinette’s… things. Since she’s gone she won’t care.”

“Of course she won’t, since she won’t have any say in the matter.” Tikki retorted, gently placing Marinette’s May Day dress on the back of one of the living room chairs. In her haste, the letter Marinette had gotten slipped out of her grasp and fluttered to the floor.

Dame Mendeleive’s hawkish eyes honed in on it immediately. “What’s that.”

Tikki dove for it, making little attempt to be inconspicuous as she hid it behind her back. “Nothing,” She chirped before looking away. “Just some mail.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Well if it’s mail then it’s obviously for the head of the household. Now hand it over.” Dame Mendeleive hissed, one hand held out demandingly. Tikki looked at the hand as a number of options ran through her mind. Either she could give up a letter written for Marinette’s eyes only from who knows who and about who knows what, or she could deny her mistress and get fired from the job she liked but only when Marinette or Sir Tom was there. She heaved a long sigh. Well, she couldn’t really be there for Marinette if she was fired. She gently placed the letter in the dame’s waiting hand.

“A letter for Marinette?” She ripped it open with her long manicured fingers and pulled out a beaitifully embossed invitation edged with golden filigree. At the center was Marinette’s name in beautiful cursive, right below a royal seal, and judging from the markings, it was the prince’s, not the king’s.

“The prince’s coronation ball.” The dame said in disbelief. “He’s invited that little ingrate?” Suddenly, a momentary burst of life sparked in Dame Mendeleive’s expression as she turned on her two daughters. “Girls, go and dust off your ball gowns and pack your bags. I think I may have found you another chance,” she held out the invitation with a wicked grin, “at your future husband!”

Chloe moved faster than Tikki thought possible and snatched the invitation from her mother’s hand. She gave it a quick read before she started to visibly shake with excitement. “Yes!”

As Sabrina clapped and the dame looked rather smug in her deception of the crown prince, Tikki fingered the soft silk of Marinette’s May Day dress, wondering if she would forgive her for giving her opportunity to go to the ball to her step-sisters.

###

Alya wasn’t only fascinated with Wayzz, she wanted to carry him and ask him every question she could think of under the sun, which, for a future journalist, was a lot.

“So, how far is it from Lamia to Giantville?”

“Approximately 32 miles,” Wayzz droned on. Once the initial flattery had died off, Marinette could tell he was longing for some peace and quiet.

“What does the Royal Charter look like?” Alya pulled open the book and sitting there in beautifully embossed lettering and rough to the touch paper was the Royal Charter, complete with the original signatures back when Kyrria was founded.

“Can you… tell me where my Aunt Viv is?” Alya teased before pulling open the book again to see another elf that looked a lot like her, perched on a toilet in a house somewhere in Kyrria wearing slippers and reading a newspaper. She quickly slammed the book shut. “Okay, I didn’t need to see that.”

“He can show you whoever you want, just not where they are specifically,” Marinette explained with a smile. “Though judging by what you saw, I take it you already know where she is.”

“Parked on the lou in her pjs and slippers back at her house.” Marinette tried not to laugh when she saw her small friend shiver at the thought. “TMI, Wayzz.”

“You asked, I merely answered,” Wayzz said pitifully. Marinette didn’t know the amount of exertion it took him to show them the information asked, but considering how quickly Alya was asking questions, giving rapid fire responses was taking a lot out of him.

“How about we lay off of the questioning for a while?” Marinette suggested, reaching to take Wayzz back when a devious look came into Alya’s eye. “What? What are you thinking?”

Alya didn’t answer, merely holding out Wayzz at arm’s length with a smug expression on her face before asking. “Show me Prince Adrien.”

Marinette’s heart skipped a beat. He was there, in full technicolor picture, walking out of the castle towards the stable along with five men at his side. He was dressed in civilian clothes; simple black pants, riding boots and a well tailored coat over a white shirt. He made a joke and the men at his side laughed as they came up to their horses in the stables. She watched him pull out three sugar cubes from his jacket pocket, feeding them to his mount before rubbing his forehead against the horse’s. Marinette smiled thoughtfully at the moment before Alya broke the fantasy the picture provided.

“Dang! I knew he was cute, but I always thought those pictures were magically enhanced or something,” Alya crooned as she leaned in close to the picture. She let out a low whistle. “Nope, thats full HD picture right there right Wayzz?”

“I told you, you asked, I answered. As if doctoring my information would be of any use to anyone,” He huffed indignantly as if the idea of him falsifying information was an insult of the highest caliber.

Marinette suppressed a blush at Alya’s fawning. “He’s not that great you know.”

“How would you know? Have you met him?” Alya asked, her owl gaze honing in on Marinette.

“Well actually-“

“Get in.”

Marinette blinked at the gruff voice. It was coming from a nearby patch of undergrowth and judging by the tone of voice, it wasn’t friendly. Marinette motioned for Alya and Wayzz to quiet down. Together, they softly made their way to an outcropping that overlooked another clearing along the edge of the path they had been following since leaving the elven camp that morning. There was a battalion of soldiers standing guard around a prison carriage, only the people being paraded in weren’t prisoners, but some of the elves that had been seen dancing and singing when they had arrived last night. Marinette watched one of the soldiers prod one of the elves in the back with the end of his pike. She recognized her as the pink haired elf from the tavern. “Come on.”

“Oi, hands off Penny!” The same purple haired and sequined elf from last night snarled at the soldier only to get a rap on the head from one of the soldier’s armored gloves. “Quiet. Get a move on or we’ll have to take serious measures at restraining you.”

The man snarled before climbing into the carriage after his partner, followed by at least five other elves that Marinette didn’t recognize. “What are they doing?”

“The king’s rounding up elven singers to perform at the coronation, the monster,” Alya growled as they watched the battalion and their short statured cargo lumber back to the main road.

“Alya, you have to go to Lamia and petition the prince.” Marinette wasn’t sure why she said it, she wasn’t sure if it would even work, but she knew that something had to be done and if anyone was going to have the courage to do something, it would be Alya.

Alya, however, didn’t seem all that convinced. “For what?”

“To go get the journalism degree. To stand up to the king. To stop all of this from continuing,” Marinette explained defiantly, gesturing to the kidnapping they had just seen.

Alya looked at her incredulously. “You want me. To go to Lamia. By myself?” Her voice rose an octave with every sentence spoken.

“We’re going to Giantville, it’s on the way,” Marinette held out a hand to her with a bright smile. “Come with us. It might give you something to write about, yeah?”

Alya looked at her hand rather crestfallen. “The prince will never grant an audience with an elf. The royal family thinks we’re a joke.”

“I think the picture we just saw of him nuzzling a horse might suggest that Prince Adrien is a bit different.” Marinette felt heat rise to her cheeks in spite of herself. “Besides, I’ve met Prince Adrien and I think he might be different than his father.”

Marinette couldn’t believe she admitted it. One passing meeting with the prince and suddenly she’s starting to think she can ignore years of royal abuse in the lives of the Kyrria people. Maybe she was going insane. Maybe Prince Adrien was secretly a wizard and was charming her into subjugation. It was odd how much weight she was putting on that option the more she thought about it.

If Alya had noticed Marinette’s intense inner debate over whether or not Adrien was a magical entity, she pretended not to as she heaved a deep sigh and took Marinette’s hand in a firm shake. “Well, if anything I’ll get to see whether or not Wayzz was lying about doctoring his own information up close and personal.”

“Excuse me?” Wayzz hissed as Marinette and Alya dissolved into laughter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ball? Theres a ball? She's INVITED TO THE BALL? To bad she isn't there but she's enjoying herself way more than she would be. Marinette and Alya play Wayzz like a Ouija Board while deciding what they want next. 
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
> Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shelbyecandraw  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/shelbyecandraw  
> Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shelbyecandraw/  
> Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/shelbyecandraw  
> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	10. Chapter 10

“Elves aren’t that short, you know. That’s just a myth created by that stupid Elves and the Shoemaker story. Just horrible writing.”

Marinette let out a soft snort at Alya’s critique at how elves were depicted in modern media. They had been walking for about a day and a half, and had thus far spent most of it simply listening to Alya talk, not that Marinette minded. The more Alya talked, the less she had to, and so long as there weren’t any commands thrown into the mix, she didn’t see any harm in allowing it to continue. Wayzz, though, had taken to bickering with their small friend in an uncharacteristic manner, but after the last retort from Alya, he had gone quiet in her arms.

“Do I look small enough to fit in a shoe?” Alya huffed, standing proudly to the side on the path they had been following, pulling herself up to her full height. She felt Wayzz twinge in her arms, ready to make a comment of his own, but with a suggestive squeeze from Marinette, he remained silent and she merely snickered at the picture before her of an elf trying to appear tall.

“No, I suppose you don’t,” Marinette chuckled. Alya swelled up some before they continued walked. “Stinking Grimm Brothers.”

Alya went quiet for a moment before she sighed frustratedly and gestured to the forest around them. “We’ve been walking through the same patch of woods for what feels like forever. Are you sure he knows where he’s going?”

Wayzz shuddered in Marinette’s arms, as if craning himself to try and get a better look at his accuser without having a neck to do so. “Excuse me, ma’am, I’m right here. Just because I am a book, doesn’t mean that I don’t have ears! I know perfectly where we are going.”

“Guys, if you can’t play nice, you can’t play together,” Marinette teased while they continued walking. Sure, it wasn’t the path Marinette had intended to take when they first started out, but taking the longer route wasn’t nearly as strenuous when she had two very energetic partners around to keep her company.

Along the path, a set of bushes began to shake and tremble as if there were something lurking just behind them. Alya, ever the courageous hero, took a step closer to Marinette and grabbed her by the forearm while pointing a shaky finger at the undergrowth. “Oh, no. The rustling always comes before the screaming and the running.They’ll just find pieces of us scattered across the floor.”

Despite knowing Alya had a flair for the dramatics, Marinette couldn’t help but tremble at the thought that she may have been right. Ogres had been roaming the Forest of Pim as rogues ever since King Gabriel banished them there, ands had a feeling they weren’t going to take too friendly to humans in their wood.

They stood there trembling together, waiting for the worst when a brown hare, not a blood thirsty ogre, leapt out of the bushes and scampered across the path before disappearing once more on the opposite side.

Wayzz came to first and let out a breathy chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Oh, a bunny. There never has been reports of bunny attacks in the Forest of Pim, Alya.”

Alya stepped away from Marinette and Wayzz, pouting once more at the book Marinette carried in her arms. “Well, it never hurts to be on your guard.” 

Again, the bush from where the bunny had appeared began to shake and there was a distinct twig snap just beyond in the thicket. Alya must have been tired of being teased by Wayzz and threw up her hands with a confident smile. “No need to panic, no need to panic. I’ve got this.”

She swaggered over to the bramble bushes and thickets along the walking path, Marinette and Wayzz following just behind. Alya stood confidently before the thicket and called into the undergrowth. “Oi! Thumper! Out of the forest or no more carrots for you.”

She had started to laugh at the thought, Marinette and Wayzz chuckling as well at the thought when the bush’s shaking became more violent. What stepped out was not the fleet footed rabbit that they had been expecting, but a fully grown, blue skinned ogre covered in hair and animal pelts. He also had a cocky air about him, much like Alya had before she realized she was no longer the predator in the scenario.

“I’m not much of a fan of carrots,” The large creature growled, grinning garishly in a way that made the scars on his face pucker and stretch. “I’m much more a fan of meat.”

“Then how do you feel about rabbit, cause one just went that-a-way,” Alya said hoarsely, once again using her shaking finger to point towards where the rabbit had disappeared into the brush moments before.

The ogre stood up tall, resting a rather nasty looking club on one shoulder while pounding his chest with his other fist. “I am the ogre, Kim! How would you two like to be eaten; baked, boiled, shishkebabbed?”

Marinette couldn’t help but notice how with every method of cooking listed, the hungrier the look in the ogre Kim’s eye became. “How about free range?” Marinette chuckled humorlessly, side-stepping to stand between Alya and the ogre Kim.

Obviously not entertained with the idea she was proposing, Kim growled and took a solid step forward towards them. Alya moved to rush in case things got dicey, but Marinette’s arm flung out to stop her from attacking. “Stop!” She barked before thrusting out her hand towards Kim as if expecting a professional handshake. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng of Frell. I think that there’s been a big mistake here, you see, I’m pro-ogre.”

A confused look spread across Kim’s face and Marinette got the distinct impression that what she had said was taking a while to process. “Pro-ogre?” He asked slowly.

Marinette nodded vigorously, her eyes darting between Kim’s face and the club on her shoulder. “A-absolutely. I led a rally on your behalf the other day, maybe you heard about it?”

_What a stupid thought, of course he hasn’t heard of it,_ the rational side of her brain mused.

_It’s worth a shot, though, if it keeps him from eating us!_ The adrenaline-doped other half concerned with her staying alive quickly quipped back.

“Don't worry, lovelies, it will only hurt for a moment, I promise,” He grinned that horrid grin again, giving them a beautiful view of his yellowing teeth. “I’m a fast eater.”

He made some kind of hand gesture with his free hand and suddenly, there were two other ogres surrounding them, one with darker skin and curly black hair and the other on the small side with her pink hair in a complicated kind of half pony tail. They both looked as excited as Kim was at the prospect of eating, which made the hole in Marinette’s stomach grow larger. The smaller girl ogre lurched at Alya who let out a sharp grunt before Marinette swung around to stretch an arm in front of her friend. “Please! I want to help.”

“Help?” Kim echoed, the sneer clear in his tone. “From a human?”

His expression soured greatly and Marinette felt a chill run down her spine. “Humans took everything from us.” He then took on a far-away look, leaving Marinette feeling like he wasn’t just looking at her, but through her. “I was an ogre of leisure, with a simple life. Run everyday, swim everyday, lift weights everyday. Next thing you know…”

The darker skinned ogre with curly hair let out a contemptuous groan, oblivious to the plight of his friend or his self-pitying reflection. “Now, not this again.”

“Kim, hurry up. I’m starving,” The woman ogre pouted, eyeing Alya who had taken to holding up her fists and switching from one ogre to the other.

Kim took a deep breath before giving a sharp nod. “Alright, Alix grab the little one, Max get the pot ready.” He then turned on Marinette. “You, get in the pot.”

They moved faster than what could have been expected, Max dashing to the pot while Alix took hold of Alya in a kind of chokehold to keep her docile. Marinette, however, struggled against the pull of her curse as she took heavy step, after heavy step towards the pot that laid in wait just beyond the path in a secluded part of the forest. Each step raised her pulse as she moved closer to where Max had started a kindling under the iron pot.

From where she continued to struggle, Alya howled hoarsely. “Forget that!”

In that moment, it was as if everything had gone blank and Marinette was looking at the wood around them for the first time. She gave a slow turn and jumped at the sight of the three ogres who had taken hold of Alya and tossed Wayzz into the dirt. She gave a slow blink, what she was seeing not quite lining up with her memory for the past few minutes.

“Who are you?” She asked sheepishly.

From where he stood, Kim once again pounded at his chest proudly. “I am the ogre, Kim.”

Then it was his turn to look confused, glancing at Marinette, then at his two companions. “We just did this. Didn’t we just do this?”

Kim shook his head of the thought before looking seriously at the young woman before him. “All right, that’s enough fun and games.” He picked up a spare bit of rope that sat amongst the ogre’s supplies and pulled it taught. “Now, shut your mouth and don’t move.”

Marinette went stiff as a statue where she stood and was no bother when Kim carefully wrapped her wrists and ankles, stringing her up by the waist above the now heated pot. Alix gleefully bounced on the balls of her feet, looking into the pot while Max waited beside the rope holding Marinette in the air, ready to lower her in once the soup was hot.

“Is it boiling yet?” She whined, pouting at the soup’s contents.

“It's not gonna boil if you stand there looking at it,” Max explained to her, rolling his eyes at his companion’s idiocy at times.

From where she was tied to the tree, Alya was doing her own kind of simmering. “You couldn’t have shown us a picture of the ogre trio heading our way? That would have been helpful.”

“That only works when you ask the question of me then open the book!” Wayzz retorted quietly from where he was now propped up alongside the ogre supplies, apparently considered spoils in their conquest of the travelers.

“Oh! Oh! I think I see bubbles,” Alix cried, pointing at the large pot with glee while Max started Marinette’s ascension into the soup, quiet and complacent as they had asked her to be.

If the ogres had noticed the quaking that had started to rumble through the earth, maybe they could have put a stop to what was to follow. But as they watched with drooling mouths as the main entree got set to cook, it was only Alya who felt the distinct thump of the war horse’s hooves before they came stampeding into the clearing. As Alya adjusted to the chaos that erupted around her, she caught sight of the familiar visage that had been etched into the pages of Wayzz’s book when she had asked him a silly question.

Prince Adrien had come to their rescue.

###

Adrien didn’t like hunting parties; they was ranked up there with sitting in on his father’s war meetings with things he hated to do, an entire day spent on horseback with a crossbow aiming at some sad rabbit or pheasant only to bring it back and mount it instead of eating it like a normal person would. That and when they weren’t hunting, he would have to put up with the sons of his father’s associates and all of their drivel about how hard it was to be them when in reality it wasn’t. Sadly, though, it was the only time that his father would let him out of the castle without either himself or Natalie present.

This time, though, he had almost skipped to the stables out of sheer excitement at what they were really going to do. Sure, he had asked his father for three free days for a hunting trip, but his true aims were of far more noble reasons. He, along with his men, were going to Frell.

He saddled and reigned his personal mount, a midnight black stallion he affectionately called Noir, in record time. He didn’t bother waiting for the others in his party before he nudged Noir into a fast trot, keeping him on a tight reign before pushing him into a full gallop as soon as they cleared the stable gates. Adrien smiled at the way the wind roared in his ears and how Noir’s mane tickled his face as they sped along. This was as close as he had come to freedom in a long time, sitting horseback and riding through the high streets and out onto the fields beyond.

He had been planning his escape since the invitations to the ball had been sent out, and from what he understood, the letter sent to Frell had probably arrived early that morning. Adrien would lead his men into Frell and cut them loose for a day before they returned to Lamia the day after. He would try to run into her by chance, Frell wasn’t all that big, but had her address written down in case he felt brave enough to find her at home if that didn’t work. He had planned to tell her that he was there on behalf of his father to scout out a place for a new army barrack in Frell, then casually ask her about whether or not she had gotten the invitation and what her answer was. If she said she couldn’t go, he would be sad, but not pry into why.

If she could though, he would then, as politely as possible, without scaring her off, ask her to save him a dance.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng of Frell.

His heart began to beat faster, whether it was from adrenaline or from the sheer excitement of getting to see her again, Adrien was almost overwhelmed. He didn’t know if it would happen or not, but he was willing to try. He hadn’t been willing to try anything in quite some time.

Imagine his surprise when he and his men stumbled in upon a trio of ogres getting ready to roast the girl he was going to see. He had stopped dead in his tracks, giving his men time to catch up with his pace for the first time since they had set out. It was quite a sight to say the least, seeing a girl strung up over a boiling pot with the ogres ready to set her in the soup.

“Oh! Oh! I think I see bubbles!” The female ogre cried. At her outburst, the darker skinned ogre grabbed hold of the rope holding Marinette above the pot and started to lower her down. After that, Adrien wasn’t all too sure what happened. All he knew was that he needed to stop them. Now.

“Let her go!” He howled, watching his men leap into the fray before following suit, nudging Noir forward into the clearing and charging the pot.

In his surprise, the dark skinned ogre that was holding the rope, suddenly let it go, sending Marinette falling through the air in a nose dive towards the boiling stew. Adrien nudged Noir again. Faster, they had to go faster.

By some miracle, they managed to make it to the pot in time for Adrien to not only kick over the boiling pot, but also barely catch Marinette and pull her onto Noir before circling over to just outside the tree line away from the chaos. He slid off of Noir, Marinette clutched bridal style in his arms. He set her down gently, unsheathing the hunting knife he kept at his waist and cutting the ropes that held her wrists together. He took her now free hands and closed them around the knife, giving her a serious look before ordering her, “Untie yourself.”

He didn’t wait for her to react before turning back into the clearing and unsheathing his sword. He charged the nearest ogre, rounding on whom he assumed was the trio’s leader.

He swung deftly, the blade flat against the ogre’s hand hard enough to make him release the club he had been swinging around like a madman. The ogre howled in either pain or surprise, dropping the club, the spiked end barely scraping along Adrien’s left side before it finally hit the ground. He leveled the blade at the ogre’s throat, pushing him back until his back was firmly against one of the trees surrounding their camp. The ogre threw his hands up in surrender, his eyes never leaving the blade that hovered centimeters above his throat. “Truce! Truce! Can’t we just get along?”

Adrien heard some of his men scoff at what the ogre had suggested, but he took no notice. He only had one question for the creature pinned before him and it was the same for every ogre he would come across for the rest of his life until he got the answer he wanted. “Are you one of the monsters who killed my friend?”

The ogre shoot his head quickly and from what Adrien could see, there was no hesitation, no hint of deceit when he answered. “Nooroo was a good man. We lived in peace when he stood alongside the King. Why would we kill him?”

Nooroo was a far better man than those ogres would ever fathom, but that wasn’t the time or the place to correct a perfect stranger. Adrien lowered his blade and saw the ogre deflate some with relief. “Then I will spare your lives where you didn’t spare his. You take your friends and breakfast elsewhere.”

Adrien motioned at his men, who had corralled the other two, to let them loose. They backed away and together with their leader the three ogres backed into the wood, eyes trained on whoever had a sharp blade or crossbow. The lead ogre gave a nervous chuckle as they quickly gathered their things. “We’ll pick up something else on the way. Anyway, you eat maiden, an hour later you’re hungry again.”

When the creatures had vanished into the green once again, Adrien turned on the girl he had rescued who now stood quietly beside a female elf, clutching what looked like an enormous encyclopedia. Adrien knew that he had originally set out to invite this girl to a dance, but after what had just transpired, he could only find himself placing his hands on his hips and look at her incredulously. “What are you doing here,” he narrowed in on the female elf rubbing her wrists at Marinette’s feet, “with an elf for protection? Do you get a kick out of near-death experiences?”

Marinette didn’t back down, in the same way she hadn’t the first day they had met on the dirt road outside of the Frell mall. She mirrored his composure, planting her free hand on her hip. “No. I was fine. I had things well in hand.”

Adrien let out an exasperated huff, gesturing to the scene that had exploded around the clearing moments before. “Oh yes, I could see that, as you were dangling over the boiling cauldron. I’m sure you were lulling them into a false sense of security.”

“Who’s to say it wouldn’t have worked if you hadn’t come barging in?” Marinette retorted, confidently standing toe-to toe with him and in close enough proximity that if he wanted, he could have counted the freckles dusted across her cheeks. Adrien felt his cheeks go red, but he surely thought that it was from anger rather than anything else.

He pursed his lips, turning his back on her to try and collect his thoughts. “I see that the score currently starts at chivalry two, gratitude zero.”

He heard her sigh and his heart stopped for a moment. It was a lovely sound, if only it didn’t sound so exhausted or annoyed. He glanced back at her to see her looking directly at him with those bluebell colored eyes, perfectly neutral before replying. “Look… You’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you for helping.”

“You’re welcome.”

He watched as her gaze dropped from his face to his body, feeling a bit self-conscious before she said, her voice full of concern, “You’re bleeding.”

Adrien blinked in surprise before looking down at his shirt. That’s right, in all of the chaos, that ogre’s club managed to get a good scrape in and had torn a sizable hole not only in his shirt, but in his skin as well. He hadn’t even realized what had happened. “Oh, uh. It’s just a scratch.”

Marinette looked at him like she couldn’t believe he would take her for being so stupid. She grabbed his wrist, quickly setting down her book before dragging him off into the woods beyond the clearing. “Come on. You’re going to need some help with that.

###

There were times that Marinette was stupid. Then there were other times, when she was extremely stupid. Like when she went and dragged the prince of Kyrria off to the stream they had passed a while back or when she ordered him to take off his shirt so that she could get a better look at his wound. The former wasn’t that bad, but the latter would be something she would never forget.

She tried not to look at him as she wrapped the cloth bandage around his stomach after having used some of the medical salve she kept in her bag for the trip on the wound. It was long, but not deep, barely having broken the skin, but it still needed to be looked after.

She could feel him watching her, those cool green eyes that seemed to rest physically on her as she tied the end of the bandages off. They had been quiet most of time she had been helping him, Adrien staying silent while Marinette only gave the odd order to have him raise his arm or straighten up whenever she needed to get a better look at the scrape. When she finally pulled away after finishing the knot, he spoke. “So… will I live?”

Marinette glanced sheepishly up at him, his gaze steady and mildly amused as if they were sharing some kind of inside joke. It was the same expression as the one he had whenever he joked about beheading her back on the road from the mall in Frell. She sat up straight, telling herself that she couldn’t look away, he would get the wrong idea if she did. “I think the odds are in your favor.”

He flashed that sunshine filled smile at her and her heart skipped a beat, much to her dismay. He stood and pulled on his shirt, despite her insistence that it was ridiculous to wear a torn shirt, before offering her a hand up from the rocks they had perched on by the river. They weren’t very far from where they had been attacked by the ogres and before long they made it back to see Alya telling some story to the men gathered, Wayzz, thankfully, sitting by her with his mirror blank.

“So then I said, ‘But sir, that’s not my mead bottle, it’s my gran’s music jug!’” She concluded, the men erupting into laughter much to Adrien and Marinette’s confusion. Whatever Alya had told them, it was funny to say the least. Alya gave a small bow before excusing herself from the horde and quickly running over to Marinette’s side. She reached up and gave a firm tug on her female friend’s pigtails, pulling her down to his level before whispering, “Don’t you ever leave me alone like that again. I was about to run out of jokes and have to start dancing for these fools, girl.”

“Noted,” Marinette winced before Alya let go of her pigtail and ran to pick up Wayzz from where she had been guarding him.

“Well,” Adrian smiled, clasping his hands together as he turned to look at Marinette who had suddenly gone a deep shade of pink, “where exactly are you heading that would take you through such a dangerous place?”

“Giantville for a wedding. I’m hoping to meet my godfather there,” Marinette explained, hoping that Adrien didn’t press any further on the matter. It wasn’t usual for a human to get invited to a giant’s wedding, but if he was curious he didn’t show it, merely smiling as he took up the reigns of a beautiful black stallion. “That’s on out way back to Lamia. We’ll accompany you.”’

Marinette blinked, pointing back towards the Forest of Pim’s entrance on the south side. “But weren’t you headed that way? It looked like you came from the north already.”

It was the prince’s turn to turn pink in the face. Apparently his reason for heading south was a little more personal than what she thought it’d be. He smiled sheepishly. “Yes, well, actually we’ve just been out for a spot of hunting, but for the sake of protecting a fair lady,” He gave her a sly wink, “I’m sure we can make other plans.”

Marinette felt her cheeks turn bright red, choking slightly before answering. “T-That’s not necessary.”

Adrien gave her a sly smile again. “But it makes it so much easier to rescue you if I don’t have to commute.”

Marinette’s heart was going to give out, why was he doing this to her? “Look, I really appreciate the offer, but…”

Alya tugged at Marinette’s cloak, quickly getting her flustered friend’s attention. “Are you crazy, girl? Tell him to come with us.”

Quick as a whip, Marinette stood straight up to face the patiently waiting prince with a smile on her face, a product of the curse placed upon her. “Come with us, or rather, we come with you I’d say.

Adrien’s expression lit up with what could only be described as euphoria. “Excellent.” He held out an arm to her, ever the gentleman. “We better find you a mount then, shouldn’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY BOY'S BACK
> 
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> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	11. Chapter 11

Despite having started the journey with completely different intentions, Adrien couldn’t have been happier now. Nice weather, perfect travel conditions and the company of the girl he had been going to see all along. He glanced back from where he was mounted on Noir to look at his newest companion. He had given her the nicest mount among their party, a beautiful copper colored mare with black mane and tail which the soldier had said was called Ladybug. She seemed sweet as could be and had taken to Marinette easily despite her lack of experience.

The young girl looked so small on her steed, her brow furrowed in concentration as she kept one hand on the reins while the other clutched that odd book of hers. She refused to let go of it when he had helped her onto Ladybug, preferring the hardest method of mounting, one handed, rather than relinquishing it into someone else care. He thought it might have been her diary or something, he had read in some magazine that girls do that, but surely it wouldn’t have been as big as that.

The more he thought about it, the odder it seemed that someone like Marinette, a nobleman’s daughter, would be wandering around the forest by herself with only an elf to keep her company. He tilted his head to the side, trying to think of the best way to ask her about it without her jumping to the wrong conclusion about his intentions.

“So, Marinette,” He asked as casually as he could, rearing in Noir to where he and Marinette rode side by side along the road. “Traveling with an elf? Your, um, boyfriend couldn’t make it?”

_Smooth, Agreste, smooth._ He chided himself, not bothering to look at her after that less than discrete comment. Marinette smiled thoughtfully down at the pommel of the saddle and Adrien couldn’t help but wonder what on earth she was thinking about. “No.”

Adrien scolded himself for how his heart seemed to sink further into his chest. So she had a boyfriend in Frell who simply couldn’t make it on their outing. What business was it of his anyways? He barely knew the girl. Still, he couldn’t help but look away, eyes trained on the road that wound ahead of them and into the hills beyond, “Oh?”

Then Marinette turned on him, and with a casual shrug said, “Because I don’t have one.”

Adrien’s eyebrows shot up, turning to look back at her, unable to keep the surprise hidden. His heart fluttered in his chest sporadically as he thought of what all that entailed, but once again, his years of tutoring in the proper techniques for eloquence and composure failed him and he uttered an almost horrifyingly stupid, “Oh.”

Marinette didn’t seem to think much of this as she once again kept a steady gaze on the hand that gripped Ladybug’s reins. They trotted on in silence for a moment, winding their way farther up the trail when he supposed her curiosity got the better of her. “Your girlfriend doesn’t mind being left alone?”

Adrien grinned at all that question could mean, especially when posed by a rather pretty girl whom he had found himself hopelessly bewitched by. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh?”

“I have many,” He replied, unable to restrain himself from teasing her. She made it almost too easy, the way her shoulders slumped and her eyes rolled without any hint of fear for being caught. He didn’t have many opportunities to joke with anyone like this; his father barely registered on the emotional scale and anyone in the palace seemed to laugh out of either fear or pity. So far, Marinette had been the only one brave enough to give him a genuine response he could relish in.

“I’m just kidding you know,” Adrien teased, grinning as Marinette seemed to visually perk up at his admission. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read in Medieval Teen.”

From behind, there was the quick march and the subtle angry muttering of Marinette’s companion coming to trail closer behind them. She seemed rather bold from what little interaction Adrien had had with the elf named Alya. It had been almost comical to watch her try and mount her horse on her own when she had refused any type of assistance, but had kept her distance for a majority of the ride so far.

“Excuse me? Excuse me, Prince Adrien, permission to speak?” She said in a cordial tone, the formality catching him somewhat off guard. He blinked, pulling himself away from where he had been gazing at Marinette to look at the elf over his shoulder. “Um, sure.”

“You know the word coincidence?” Alya started and Adrien could already tell he was in for a longer conversation than he had been hoping for. “It just so happens that I was on my way to meet a certain royal someone in order to discuss some career options that are currently unavailable to-“

“Alya wants to become a journalist,” Marinette stated plainly, Adrien once again caught off guard by her outright candor. Alya seemed to deflate a bit where she sat, sending a withering look into Marinette’s back for having interrupted her well rehearsed promotional pitch.

“A journalist?” Adrien couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice at the notion. He had never heard of an elf wanting to be a writer, at least, not for a long time.

Marinette turned her head to look him in the eye, her expression filled with that all too familiar brazen determination. “Why not? There were no laws against it when Nooroo was alive.”

She had a point, though that had been quite some time ago. Adrien reached up to scratch at the back of his neck nervously, trying in vain to think of a viable answer to Alya’s proposal. 

“That’s not really my area of expertise,” he said honestly. “My advice to you would be to talk to my father. I’m sure if you make a good argument, he’ll come around to the thought.”

At the mention of a chance to argue with the high lord of the realm, Alya seemed to visibly brighten, a mischievous grin spreading from ear to ear across her face. “Well, thank you for your advice, Your Highness.”

Adrien nodded sheepishly before smiling at Marinette, though the expression didn’t last long. Somehow while he had been responding to Alya, Marinette had taken on a more serious mood, her mouth set into a hard line as she looked anywhere but at Adrien.

“Marinette? What is it?”

“You’re about to be king.” There was a definitive truth that rang in her voice that made Adrien suddenly feel very hollow. “You’ll have the power to make a difference in the world and it doesn’t even seem like you care. You’d rather hand it right back to your father than tackle the issues yourself.”

Adrien’s brow furrowed at what she was accusing him of, telling her the same thing that he wanted to scream every time anyone mentioned his eminent coronation. “It’s not like I asked to become king, I don’t have any say in the matter.”

The young woman turned on him in an instant, and for a moment he was thrown back to another trail where she had stared him down with her cold gaze. “Well, thanks to your father, there are a lot of people who have no say in the matter as to what becomes of them. Nobody should be forced to do things they don’t want to.” She pulled away from him to gaze back down at her hand and for a moment Adrien thought he saw tears welling up in her eyes. “Take it from someone who knows.”

Suddenly, she gave a firm flick of her wrist, a sure sign to Ladybug that her rider was no longer pleased with just a steady trot. The warhorse took off at full gallop, dodging around the soldiers positioned at the front of the party, to take off over the hill and dash into the countryside beyond. Adrien didn’t hesitate to do the same, ignoring the cries of his men to follow after her.

“Marinette! Marinette!”

Her red cloak was like a billowing flame caught in the tailwind left by her swift mount, Adrien having to push Noir hard in an attempt to catch up with her. He wasn’t sure where they were going exactly, he had never been through this patch of countryside on his own and nothing felt familiar. Still, he had to catch up with Marinette before she did something dangerous or worse, hurt herself in the process. They trailed close to the forest edge, Ladybug and Noir snorting from the exertion before Marinette finally reined Ladybug in, giving Adrien and Noir a chance to catch up. She had chosen to pause at the peak of one of the taller hills, looking out over the horizon with an expression that could only be described as despair. He wasn’t sure what had brought this on, but when he finally came to sit along side her, he realized what had cause the young girl’s heart to break.

Beyond the hill was a sprawling field of trees laden with huge fruit that seemed to stretch for miles. The orchard would have been beautiful in Adriens opinion if not for the lumbering figures crouched to pick them, the baskets on their backs filled with whatever they were harvesting, and the towering lookout posts and bridges that spanned between them above the giants’ heads. They were covered in tattered and stained clothes from the work they were doing in the orchard, and many of them looked elderly and could barely stand from working hard out in the hot sun. One closest to where he and Marinette were mounted, an elderly man with a haggard face and calloused hands, looked up at them from where he was working and all Adrien could see was a hollow husk of a once proud man.

A nearby watchman saw this faltering in the old giant’s work ethic and lashed out with a long barbed whip, swinging it expertly to where the serrated end lashed into the back of the giant’s knees.

“You’re not finished yet. You work until sundown,” the watchman ordered, giving the old giant one more lash across his legs for good measure before looking back over the rest of the workers. The old man glanced Adrien’s way one more time before he went back to picking the fruit and putting it in the heavy basket on his back, not a hint of resistance in his countenance. These people were truly broken.

“The giants have always been so gentle. Why are they being treated like slaves?” Adrien muttered in disbelief as he looked out over the plantation. “I'm sure my father doesn’t know about this. He couldn’t.”

From where she sat beside him, Adrien saw Marinette’s head drop to look down at the book settled close to her chest. Maybe she didn’t mean for him to overhear, but Adrien’s heart broke when he heard her whisper quietly, almost as if she were talking to the book. “Maybe he does.”

###

Being pulled away from the plantation by Adrien’s men was a welcome reprieve from the scene that he and Marinette had stumbled upon. She hadn’t exactly known where she was going when she had taken off away from the escort and Alya, but she knew she couldn’t stand to sit there patiently any longer, not while her blood boiled at the idea that Prince Adrien could be so naive. He held so much power yet wanted to do so little with it, all while she was so helpless and wanted to do everything she could. If life had taught her anything, however, it was that life was hardly ever fair, the scene of the plantation workers a testament to that fact.

They rode on in silence after that, both Marinette and Adrien left alone with their thoughts longer than they should have been. Luckily, Alya made up for their lapse in conversation by having an entire one with herself, posing questions to either Adrien or Marinette and answering them before they could even consider a response. It made Marinette smile and did wonders for her mood, Alya’s spitfire of a personality something that she was sure was a gift sent to ease her woes whenever she felt particularly bogged down.

As the sun started to dip below the horizon, the party spotted the edge of Giantville, the houses and buildings towering over the almost childlike landscape it had been built in. As they trotted past towering figures and oversized establishments, Marinette couldn’t help but think that maybe the wedding could solve both her and Adrien’s current problems.

“You know, you might be able to get to the bottom of what was happening at the plantation at the wedding,” Marinette posed, speaking of the incident for the first time since they had been led away.

Adrien seemed to consider this before smiling at his companion thoughtfully, the look in his eye as soft as could be as he considered her. “Maybe you can find your godfather too.”

Marinette gazed back down at where her hand gripped the reins. She had been dodging looking at him for most of the day, his smile making an unflattering heat swell up in her cheeks every time it was directed at her. She could only hope that he didn’t find her rude because of it.

They eventually made it through the maze of a town to carefully tie their horses outside of the gathering hall where loud music and laugher could be heard spilling out onto the street just outside. They made sure that their mounts would be safe out of harm’s way of the stray drunken giant or careless passerby before Marinette and the rest of the party slipped inside to join the festivities.

Walking into the gathering hall was like walking into a forest of trees that were constantly moving and dancing. All of the giants towered over them, the tallest of Adrien’s men not even reaching the shortest giant’s knee cap. The difference in height must have unnerved the soldiers because a number of them had taken to resting their hands on the hilts of their swords, something Marinette thought would not do anything when it came to improving relations with the people who could easily step on them in a pinch. Better to lighten the mood than deal with an eminent uprising on their hands.

“They’re not so bad,” Marinette yelled above the roaring music of the mandolin and tambourine. “I thought they’d be all big and scary.”

Adrien shot her a mildly amused look, surely catching her understatement on the situation, but choosing to ignore it any how. “I hope this is a good idea. They must hate the royal family.”

Marinette took a deep breath, admiring the bright lights and festivities around them. “They’ll respect your courage at showing up here,” She encouraged him “Besides, they don’t hold grudges. They’re bigger than that.”

At her horrible pun, Adrien whipped around, looking almost shocked that she had said it. “Did you just make a height pun at a giant wedding?”

“Maybe I did,” She mused, trying to keep the smile hidden on her face, “Maybe I didn’t.”

“Prince Adrien Agreste.” A voice boomed from amongst the clutter of towering legs. The two young people looked up to see a younger looking man in a rawhide cap and festive clothing staring them down, both figuratively and literally. He was scowling, but Marinette had a feeling that was just how he looked all the time, his thumbs tucked into his belt as he considered them. “What are you doing here?”

Adrien gave a hard gulp, leaning over to whisper in Marinette’s ear. “No grudges, eh?”

He then straightened, coming up to his full height to look up at the giant with as little fear as she guessed he felt. “Well, I thought that maybe this would be a good time to possibly have a heart-to-heart since I was passing by-” He looked around at the dancing giants and their oversized tankards filled with who knows what types of alcohol- “but now I’m thinking I should come back when there’s been a little less drinking.”

Marinette looked up at the giant with the kindest smile she could muster and rested one hand on Adrien’s forearm to keep him from shying away. “He’s here to hear your complaints.”

At that, the giant seemed to soften, a small smile spreading across his lips. “Then welcome. My name is Ivan, Ivan Ruel. I would be more than happy to give you the list of our grievances, Your Majesty.”

Before Adrien could be led away, Marinette took a few steps towards Ivan, her hand still gripping Wayzz protectively. “Excuse me, Mr. Ruel, I’m looking for someone. My godfather, Plagg.”

Ivan considered her question for a moment before gesturing towards the bar where a number of fairies were gathered on a bar stool drinking alongside their oversized companions. “He was over there earlier.”

Marinette’s heart skipped a beat with the sheer excitement of knowing she could be so close. “Thank you.” She turned on Adrien, squeezing his arm. “I’ll be right back.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t, but I know how much this means to you.” Adrien looked a tad fearful at the prospect of being left alone with Ivan. He rested his hand on top of the one that Marinette had on his arm and gave it a squeeze of his own. “Go.”

Marinette pulled away from him with an excited grin before taking off towards the bar, dodging the stray misstep from the dancing giants. She closed in on the nearest fairy, a dark haired woman with purple streaks in her hair who had fallen from the bar stool in her stupor. “Excuse me? Excuse me, is a fairy named Plagg here?”

The fairy looked at her in a daze, her brown eyes clouded by alcohol. “Too late, sweetheart,” she crooned in a low voice. “He left about an hour ago.”

Marinette bit her tongue to refrain from saying anything unlady like,“Do you know where I can find him?”

The fairy shrugged, tilting to the side somewhat before righting herself. “Last I heard, he was somewhere living in Lamia.” She looked around curiously, as if she were confused as to where she was. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”

As the fairy wandered off in whatever direction she had guessed the bathroom was, Marinette groaned and turned to walk back to where she had left Adrien with Ivan. She hefted Wayzz into both arms staring at the cover. “Wayzz, show me Plagg.”

A picture painted itself across the heavy cream page of a backroad corn field with a familiar chocolate skinned man dressed in all black embellished off to the side. He sat cross-legged, his hands in shackles with an amused look on his face while it appeared that the knight standing over him was chastising him.

“It looks like he’s getting a FWI,” Wayzz mused.

“FWI?” Marinette asked. She had never heard of such a thing.

“Flying While Intoxicated.”

Marinette groaned. Of course, Plagg would be getting an FWI. She looked at the scene around them in the picture but couldn’t make heads or tails of where they were in Kyrria. Cornfields were everywhere in the country, narrowing it down would be almost impossible.

“He could be anywhere,” Marinette snarled, slamming the boot shut in a fit of anger without meaning to. Wayzz ended up being her unfortunate victim. “Ow!”

Marinette hissed at her overreaction. “Sorry.”

She wandered the gathering hall in search of her friends. Alya had wandered off to who knows where among the throng of dancers and musicians filled with laughter and was no where to be seen. Every so often she would catch sight of one or two of Adrien’s men, but knowing none of their names, she went to look for the prince instead.

Marinette found him perched on a bench alongside Ivan, his legs swinging over the edge in a way that she found endearingly childlike. Neither of them had seen her approach, allowing her to catch the tail end of their conversation.

“I had no idea things were so bad,” Adrien said in a measured tone, considering all that they had discussed. “I promise, first thing after my coronation, I’ll help you buy your farms back.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Ivan replied with another small smile down at the prince. Marinette couldn’t help but smile herself, Adrien’s earnest declaration of helping the giants giving her more hope for the kingdom’s future than she had had when she first met him. Maybe there was something more to the prince than she had suspected.

Ivan caught sight of her where she waited alongside the bench and very gently lent down a hand to help her up onto the bench to stand alongside Adrien. The prince grinned at the sight of her, quickly scrambling to his feet to help her hop down off of Ivan’s hand. Marinette set Wayzz down close to her feet with a sheepish smile. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Not a problem. We were already done,” Ivan chuckled as he looked down at the pair of them. “That’s a fine young man you have here.”

Marinette wasn’t sure which was redder, the color of her cloak or her cheeks as she stammered out in earnest. “He’s not fine. I mean, mine.” Marinette turned on Adrien pleadingly, her hands flapping in front of her flusteredly. “What I mean is you are fine, but just… oh never mind.”

She gently tugged at her twin pigtails sheepishly. “Have you seen Alya? We have to leave, my godfather’s on some kind of bender.”

Adrien’s face fell at the news of their sudden departure from the party. “You can’t leave, it's the middle of the night. You have to stay for the party.”

Marinette’s smile turned tight with her attempt to hide her grimace. The command meant that she had no choice but to answer the way he wanted. “Okay, I guess I’ll stay.”

She turned to walk away from him, not looking forward to being issued any more commands when Adrien managed to catch her off guard with a soft sigh. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you don’t really have to stay. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to.”

Suddenly, the weight was lifted from Marinette’s shoulder as she realized that she no longer had to obey his order now that he had given her permission to leave. She smiled at him over her shoulder, bending down to pick up Wayzz before turning to face him fully. “Thank you, Adrien. Really, for everything. So I’ll see you around?”

Marinette smiled, turning to find her way down off the bench when a small voice came from behind her. “But I wish you would stay.”

The genuine tone of his voice made her turn to see him tugging at his fingers, his head ducked down, but his gaze was steady on her. Marinette felt her heart flutter in her chest like a butterfly on the wing, but not because a handsome boy was looking at her like she was something of worth, but because she really believed his earnest wish was true. He really wanted her to stay, but by her own volition, not because the prince had ordered it of her. Marinette smiled back at him, setting Wayzz back down on the bench before taking a small step towards him, closing the distance between them in an instant. “I guess one more night wouldn’t hurt.”

###

The night seemed to be an never ending stream of lively dancing and happy music as people laughed, full of merry and mirth. Marinette spent most of it close by Adrien, watching as the dancers performed complex movements to rustic tunes or how some of the more adventurous of Adrien’s men were trying to woo some of the smaller giantesses, despite their overwhelming height differences. Everything here was larger than life, the music, the food, the people and despite the overwhelming madness of it all, she had still found the peace to sit alongside her companion and carry a conversation.

“So, you’re looking for your godfather? Plagg, right?” Adrien asked before swigging down some of the mysterious liquor that they had been serving most of the night.

Marinette gave a long sigh, gazing into the contents of her own tiny mug as she thought about the spark that had sent her so far from home. “He was supposed to be here,” She said sadly, “but he isn’t, and now I have no idea where he is, and I need to find her as soon as possible bec-“

Turning to look at him put an end to whatever ramblings were going to spill out of her mouth. He was looking at her fondly, as if she were the most interesting person he had ever known, but she couldn’t simply tell him the truth. Adrien was a man of stature, and if he were to find out about her…condition, then she would never see the outside of a psychiatric hospital again. She quickly made to change her tune. “Because I miss him.”

Adrien smiled, taking the lie without her forcing it too hard and nodding in agreement. He took another sip before continuing. “Okay, so you can’t find him. Did you think of trying the hall of records?”

Marinette blinked, taken aback by how simple a solution it seemed to be. “No.”

“We have every year’s census in the castle. It’s not open to everyone,” Adrien suddenly gave her a wicked grin, “but I could probably pull a few strings.”

Marinette smiled in delight. The Hall of Records would be the definitive place for all information involving the inhabitants of Kyrria from their birth dates to their death dates. If she could get a look into those records, she could find out where Plagg was. She scooted closer to Adrien, setting a hand on top of his. “Adrien, I can’t tell you what that would mean to me.”

Adrien’s cheeks turned slightly pink, but still he smiled at her confidently, raising his glass to her. “Well then, it’s settled. You come with me to Lamia tomorrow.”

Then it was Marinette’s turn to go flush with a confusing mixture of happiness and embarrassment. “O-Okay.”

Suddenly, as was her only means of doing anything, Alya scrambled onto the bench where Marinette and Adrien were sitting, rushing to conceal herself behind her two larger friends. “I gotta hide. They’re after me.”

“Who is?” Marinette asked, she and Adrien looking about the gathering hall to see if anyone had been chasing after the elf in question.

“The giants!” Alya gave a hoarse whisper. “They want me to sing. I don’t sing!”

“There she is!” Marinette turned to see Ivan approaching with a band of giants in tow. The large man spread his arms out with a grin in Alya’s direction who cringed behind her friends. “There’s our little entertainer.”

Marinette looked at both of her friends before standing up to address Ivan and the crowd. “Mr. Ruel, I know you may find this hard to believe-” she gestured to Alya who sat behind Adrien’s outstretched arm to act as a barrier between she and the crowd-, “but Alya doesn’t sing.”

Ivan considered this for a moment, his eyes sliding over Marinette like an idea was starting to form in his head. “Well, how about you, then?”

Marinette reared back in surprise, almost stepping on Wayzz in the process where she had left him. She waved her hands as she shook her head. “Me? Oh, no. I couldn’t.”

“Now, come on,” Ivan pressed, the circle of giants slowly encircling Marinette and her friends.

“Please dont,” Marinette pleaded with a nervous laugh.

“Sing!” Ivan commanded in a gruff tone. Marinette felt a familiar pull on her vocal chords and without a second thought complied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PARTY IN GIANTVILLE AND EVERYONES INVITED. How will this end? Who knows! (I do, thats who)
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	12. Chapter 12

Marinette didn’t sing very often, and when she did it was often on her own in the comfort of her own bathroom or bedroom where no one else was there to spectate. But she had been given a command which meant her closet songbird act was no longer a secret.

She started to sing, quietly at first, an old song that her mother would hum when she and her father would dance around the kitchen. It was barely audible, even to the giants standing before her with their, well, giant ears that should have been perfect amplifiers.

“Can… anybody… find me… somebody to love.” Marinette hummed, her voice flitting through the air like a butterfly in erratic flight. Adrien sat just behind her, mesmerized as she took the stage with Alya bouncing on the balls of her feet just behind.

She sang through the first verse of the song, starting out rather timidly before growing in her boldness, having to compete with the music as the band quickly picked up on the tune. Their backup vocals, a few giantesses who had been singing with the band, even started to fill out the verse with a few well placed harmonies. Marinette had managed to loosen up some as the verses blended into one another. As she sang, she grew more confident and as she grew more confident, more was asked of her.

“Louder!” Ivan called from the front of the audience. She obeyed in an instant, singing at a projection pitch that she didn’t know she was capable of.

“I work hard, every day of my life, I work till I ache in my bones,” Marinette sang, her voice echoing off of the walls of the gathering hall as the audience let out a sharp cry of glee. She pressed her hand to her heart, the words carving deeper than she thought possible. “I get down on my knees and I start to pray, till the tears run down from my eyes…”

From the back of the crowd, another participant spoke his mind on the performance. “Give it a little more soul!”

Almost overwhelmed by the adrenaline, Marinette quickly reached up and pulled her ribbons from her hair, throwing them to Adrien before stepping back into her performance.

“But everybody wants to put me down, they say I'm going crazy.” Marinette threw herself into the words of the song, grabbing at her head in an overdramatic fashion. “They say I got a lot of water in my brain, I got no common sense, I got nobody left to believe.”

There was an instrumental after the third verse which prompted another audience request, “Dance!”

Marinette had never been the best dancer, having only taken a few ballet classes when she was younger, but that didn’t mean her curse wouldn’t pull out all the stops. She spun and twirled, her raven hair and long skirt billowing around her as she moved to the music.

From where he sat, Adrien couldn’t find it in himself to look away, not even for a moment. He looked on in growing wonder at how this petite girl, this beautiful and firecracker of a girl, could continue to amaze him. He had heard the beautiful bell-like tones of her normal voice and the heart-racing, bubbling tone that was her laughter. This was different though, now he was hearing the sweetest, albeit powerful, voice he had ever heard in all his years. It was intoxicating, watching her move and listening to her sing the heart achingly haunting tune. He didn’t know whether to dance, sing along, or grab her by the waist and twirl her around. When she threw him her bright and brilliantly red colored ribbons, he quickly leapt to his feet, unable to control himself as he carefully cradled them close to his heart.

The song quickly wound down, the music doing a slow build as the crowd chanted the words to the final chorus as the tension started to build. Marinette took to the dance more whole heartedly than she thought she would have, typically giving up the command whenever she felt it wane, but it just felt so right, dancing the night away. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face, her cheeks starting to hurt from how happy she was. She gave one final twirl as the bridge came to a close, the audience barely containing themselves at the sheer excitement of the moment. In her dizzying dance number though, Marinette’s foot caught on a wrinkle in the carpet, nearly sending her stumbling over the table edge when a hand firmly grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her away from fall. She was suddenly pulled flush against someone’s chest before promptly being turned on her toe and dipped dramatically as the music cut off.

Marinette could hardly breathe as she found herself hung off of Adrien’s arms, staring into his hypnotic mint colored eyes. She managed to find her voice again, pulling Adrien closer to her as she breathed out the final line of the song in that same flittering chime of a voice.

“Somebody to love.”

The music faded off into the background as Marinette’s nose brushed against Adrien’s, feeling herself smile in spite of her rapidly elevating heartbeat the closer they got to one another. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her back up to a standing position, his hands remaining firmly at her waist, not shying away from her. Instead, he pulled her into a kind of slow waltz, leaning his head against hers as they swayed in one place. Marinette caught sight of Alya giving her an excited thumbs up before she closed her eyes, breathing in the comforting scent of nice cologne and leather as she rested her head on Adrien’s shoulder.

Facing away from one another, Marinette and Adrien couldn’t see how red the other had turned, but as they danced to the dying music, neither could find themselves able to pull away from the touching embrace they lost themselves in.

###

After such a crowd pleasing performance, Alya had found herself in the pleasant company of one of the musicians, a rather charming young mandolin player by the name of Nino Lahiffe. He had caramel colored skin like hers and lovely honey colored eyes that made her want to stare at him all night. She was propped up on the table where he and the others musicians sat during their breaks, for once not needed for jokes or play, listening to their stories with bated breath as they recounted everywhere they had been. The lovely one, Nino, was the one who talked to her mostly and after Marinette’s performance on her behalf had become especially chatty.

“You know, I have a thing for singers,” He crooned with his chin resting in one hand, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Alya grinned back at him, leaning back on her hands. “Really? Because, as I’m sure you know, being an elf, I absolutely love to sing.”

“You’re full of it, aren’t you,” Nino chuckled, having seen the way she ran off when Ivan had come to request a song from her.

“And what if I am?” She laughed, the musicians at the table joining her in the merriment. She sat up straight, her hands clasped in her lap. “You know, I hope you don’t mind me saying this-“

“I have a feeling it wouldn’t stop you from saying it if it did,” Nino cut her off abruptly with that same sparkle in his eye.

Alya continued in spite of that. “-but you’re much more handsome than I would have expected.”

Nino rolled his eyes, not at the compliment particularly but at the notion behind it. “Oh, I know. Giants are supposed to be big, ugly and mean. It’s because of stories like Jack and the Beanstalk.” He let out a huff of contempt. “Stinking Grimm Brothers.”

Alya sat forward excitedly. “That’s what I always say!”

The table erupted into laughter and from across the gathering hall in front of the fire, Marinette and Adrien couldn’t help but chuckle as they watched the scene unfold before them.

“I’ve seen weirder couples,” Marinette chuckled as she hugged her knees. After she had sung for the crowd of party goers, she and Adrien had retreated to the seats in front of the fire, away from the ensuing madness. They were perched on one of the pillows and had spent most of the night talking instead of keeping up with the jovial overtones of the wedding party. “None that immediately come to mind, but still.”

Adrien laughed, a happy weightless sound that felt like it could take ten years off of any person’s life span if they heard it. She looked at him thoughtfully and was transported back to the life that she had left behind when all this had started and a certain blonde step-sister who often dreamed of having moments like this with the prince of the realm. She gave a breathy laugh, leaning back to stare at the ceiling in disbelief. “My step-sister Chloe would die if she knew I was here.”

She glanced at Adrien again with a wicked gleam in her eye. “She’s the president of your fan club, you know.”

Adrien nodded, watching the fire dance in the fireplace before them. “Ah, Chloe, yes. Thank you. Now I know what name to put on the restraining order.”

That sent Marinette into a fit of giggles that she would never get over. She saw Adrien grin before it faded to a nostalgic smile, keeping his eye trained on the blaze in the grate. “No, you’re lucky. I wish I had brothers and sisters.”

“Even crazed step ones?” Marinette mused playfully, trying to keep the conversation light.

Adrien glanced her way coyly before looking away again, lost in thought. “Maybe not that exactly, but having siblings would be nice. My mother passed away before she had any more children so…”

He looked down at his hands mournfully, falling back to lay into one of the pillows. Marinette pressed her calf into where her leg met his thigh in an attempt to comfort him, but when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to continue, Marinette decided to say something. “My mother passed away too.”

Adrien looked at her with the same pity that she got from everyone she told about her mother, but this time there was more of a connection. This was someone who actually understood her pain. His lips pressed into a tight line. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

Marinette gave a watery smile, hoping to stem the tears that she felt clouding her vision. “You know,” she said feebly, “she used to sing me to sleep every night.”

Adrien sat back up again with a thoughtful smile like he had thought of something funny. “Nooroo used to sing to me, loudly and very off-key, but…I still miss him. I have Father, I guess.”

Sensing Marinette’s doubt at that fact, Adrien looked at her seriously as if he could make her understand just by keeping eye contact. “He’s not such a bad guy, you know, my father. He risked his life to save Nooroo, and he’s been trying to make up for it ever since. I know you don’t like his politics much, but I’m sure when I tell him about the giants, he will correct the situation.”

“Yeah, or you could,” Marinette replied immediately, not hesitating to stem her flow of thoughts. When Adrien seemed to relapse into his same sheepish uncertainty, Marinette reached out and put her hand on his, giving it a soft squeeze as she gestured around the gathering hall. “It took a lot of guts for you to come here, and look at the way you smoothed things over. You’re a natural at this.”

Adrien thought on this for a moment before gently - his hand becoming intertwined with hers - returning the soft squeeze along with another Cheshire grin in her direction. “Wow, is that almost a compliment?”

Marinette shook her head at his antics, her eyes never leaving where their hands were intertwined on his knee. “Almost. Now, don’t go getting a big head. Your crown won’t fit.”

Adrien gave a breathy chuckle before he looked at her with a steely resolve. “You know what? Tomorrow I’m going to go to my father and I’m going to ask him to repeal the elven restrictions. Alya will have her day on the front page of every paper if I have anything to say about it.”

Marinette looked at him thoughtfully and found herself leaning closer to him in spite of herself in an attempt to meet his gaze. “Now don’t get any big ideas, but I think you’re going to be a great king someday. Your friend Nooroo would have been proud, I’m sure of this.”

Adrien smiled, not backing away when she started to close the distance between them. “Thank you,” He said in a smooth tone that made Marinette’s pulse skip a beat, but for once it didn’t make her nervous. “I think he would have really liked you.”

Without either of them realizing it, their noses brushed against one another, but neither pulled away at the contact. Marinette would have never dreamed how all of this would happen, one day working at the bakery and keeping clear of her step-sisters, the next she was suddenly inches away from the prince of a realm in a gathering hall half way across the country and having the time of her life. Maybe that was why, when Adrien looked at her, she didn’t feel afraid of what was to come.

“Kiss me,” Adrien said plainly, nothing special, but an order none the less. For once, Marinette didn’t curse the gift that Plagg gave her. For once, both it and her feelings were in perfect sync as she leaned in closer. The only thing that stopped her from closing the distance entirely was the firm squeeze of her hand and the shy way that Adrien looked at her.

“That, um, wasn’t an order, you know,” Adrien said in a quiet voice, as if he were afraid that it was the only reason that she would ever want to do such a thing. Marinette let out a quiet laugh which seemed to snap him out of his reprieve, his green eyes glowing in the fire light and wide with a confused kind of shock. Marinette reached up and placed her shaking hand on his cheek, surprised by how easily he leaned into her touch.

“I know,” Was all she had to say before Adrien finally smiled again and closed the distance between them. It was brief, nothing more than a simple kiss, but it was one that Marinette wouldn’t forget for the rest of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *quiet screaming from the background* It's fine, everything's fine. This chapter wasn't the highlight of writing this what so ever nope. 
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	13. Chapter 13

It was early in the morning when the partygoers and Marinette’s friends decided it was time to turn in. Ivan was nice enough to find them a free room in the tavern next door to the gathering hall where most of the wedding guests had already stumbled back to once the festivities had shut down. The humans managed to tie their horses safely away from the chaos of the tavern’s front door before trudging back up to the mountainous stairs to the guest rooms.

They scaled the king sized four post bed and attempted to make camp on the patchwork quilt draped across it. In order for the girls to have some semblance of privacy, Adrien had some of his men pull one of the two giant sized pillows to where it split the bed in half. On one side, Adrien and his men laid out their sleeping bags and pillows, everything set up in an orderly fashion, while Alya, Marinette and Wayzz were laid up against the giant pillow having their own kind of sleep over.

“Soooooooo,” Alya drawled, eying Marinette over the rim of her glasses with a coy smile. “You gonna tell me how your night went, or am I going to have to jump to my own over exaggerated conclusions?”

Marinette giggled staring up at the ceiling, her hands interlaced on her ribcage. They had both climbed up onto their pillow border, their weight carving out a kind of nest for them to rest in. They were covered by Marinette’s cloak in a kind of makeshift blanket and had taken to small talk. After much squealing and giggling about Alya’s night with Nino and his band mates, they had finally come to the moment Marinette had both been terrified and thrilled about.

“You two were getting pretty cozy by the fire from what I saw.”

“You saw us?” Marinette said slyly, grinning at Alya out of the corner of her eye, “And here I thought that you were too wrapped up with Nino to bother with little old me.”

“Please girl, since I’ve met you, your life has become my new favorite soap opera.” Alya rolled onto her stomach, eyes trained on her friend as she rested her chin in the palms of her hands. “Spill it.”

Marinette smiled softly down at where she twisted her fingers together, still reveling in the ghostly feeling of Adrien’s cheek under her fingers. The more she thought about it, the less appealing it seemed to beat around the bush with Alya. The journalist in her would sniff out her deceit in an instant. “Well, for a kiss it wasn’t all that bad…”

The shriek that Alya let out was enough to prompt the clashing of armor as the men on the other side of the pillow jumped to their feet at the sudden cry.

“Marinette? Alya?” Adrien’s voice called over the pillow, the concern clear in his tone. He sounded ready to send his men into the fray over what was ultimately nothing so in a split second decision, Marinette slammed a hand over Alya’s mouth to stifle the never ending giggles that she had dissolved into.

“It’s alright! I just, uh, told Alya a really funny joke! Nothing to worry about.” Marinette called back before bracing for the onslaught of concerned knights. There was a moment’s pause before Adrien replied. “Okay, well, goodnight Alya. Goodnight Marinette.”

Marinette tried to stifle the butterflies that fluttered to life in her stomach when he said her name, but managed a high pitched reply, “Goodnight, Prince Adrien.”

Marinette pulled her hand off of Alya’s mouth, choosing to ignore the wet slick of saliva from where Alya had licked her palm in an attempt to free herself. She held up a finger to her mouth as Alya continued to giggle. “Shhh! They’ll hear us!”

“Sweet Grimm!” Alya giggled, squirming were she lay out of sheer girlish delight. “I can’t believe you kissed the prince!”

She let out a surprised gasp, eyes wide as she shook Marinette by the shoulders. “Don’t tell me that was your first kiss.”

Marinette had to think on that for a moment before she came to the conclusion that it wasn’t technically her first kiss. “Well, there was this boy when I was five. My parents took me to Lamia for the Noblemans Convention and there was this little boy there who told me he’d marry me one day and then kissed me. I cried and punched him in the stomach before running away.”

“Wow, okay, so, yeah this was your first kiss and it was with a prince!” Alya whispered giddily. “How was it?”

“What do you mean?” Marinette asked hesitantly.

“What do I mean? I mean, how was it! Is he a good kisser or not?” Alya demanded, that familiar spark of stubborn determination alight in her eye again as she stared her friend down.

Marinette smiled coyly, rolling to lay on her back again. “I don’t know if I can tell you.”

“Why not?” The elf whined.

“Because, you’re going to be an all-star reporter and any self-respecting person of interest would know not to give away such information lightly.”

Despite being shot down, Alya seemed to soften, her grin turning into a reflective smile as she too laid back to look at the ceiling. “All-Star Reporter. I can’t believe it.” Her smile turned into a disappointed frown, her brow knit together as she thought long and hard about something. “Do you think that Adrien will keep his promise? About letting me be a writer?”

Marinette shot up in a flash, gripping Alya’s shoulder with a firm squeeze. “Of course, Alya. He made a promise and I’m sure that he’ll keep it. Adrien doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would go back on his word.”

“Wow. You really do like him.”

The absoluteness in Alya’s tone coupled with the knowing smile that had curled into her cheeks, stretching the moles on her face, made Marinette blush. For once though, she didn’t feel like playing it off. “Y-yeah, I guess so.”

“And here I thought that Ms. ‘The-Royals-Are-Awful’ would never admit to liking one, let alone have a crush on one!”

Marinette shoved Alya’s face away with a hand as she erupted into giggles again. “Shut up, Alya.”

They spent the next few minutes giggling quietly and talking about their adventure so far before both sides of the bed went quiet. As she lay there, Marinette couldn’t help but tease Alya a little bit more. “He wasn’t half bad, kissing wise you know.”

With one last shove to Marinette’s face, the two girls retired for the rest of the night. Marinette waited until she was sure that Alya was sound asleep before reaching out to Wayzz.

“Wayzz?”

“Mmmm?” The book said sleepily. The journey must have tired him out, or maybe it was just the overexertion from spending time with so many people and he had been quiet for most of the night.

“Please, show me Plagg.” Marinette asked quietly.

Wayzz didn’t resist or complain as Marinette gently opened the book’s cover and watched as a moonlit cell filled the pages. Her godfather was laying on his cot just beneath the barred window near the ceiling, his form blurred against the shadow on the wall. His eyes were closed and his cheek rested in his hand, and for a moment he looked almost peaceful if it weren’t for the impatient tap of his fingers on the cot. He must have been more disrespectful to the knight from before than Marinette thought.

The more she looked at the cell he was in, the less sure she was of where he was. She let out a sharp sigh, the rush of breath escaping from her nose and tickling the page.

“I’m coming for you, Plagg. Don’t leave until I do,” Marinette whispered to the picture. As if he had heard her, one of Plagg’s glowing green eyes peaked open and a lazy smirk slipped across his lips. Feeling like she was the one who was being watched, Marinette quickly closed Wayzz, apologizing for the rough way she had handled him. She tugged her cloak around her, curling closer to Alya until she was assured that Plagg seeing her was nothing more than a mere coincidence. Eventually, she too drifted off to sleep and for once, she didn’t dream. 

###

The next morning started with the girls gathering up all of their things (which wasn’t much) and fixing their hair (which was too much) before they were eventually joined by Adrien and his men.

“Everyone decent?” Adrien called hesitantly from where they waited just around the corner.

“Yes,” Marinette called, handing Wayzz to Alya as the rest of their group rounded the mountainous pillow. Adrien lit up when his gaze landed on Marinette, making her heart leap to her throat in an exciting drum beat. He came to stand before them, motioning to his men to gather the women’s belongings. “Good morning, Ms. Cesaire, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.”

Alya and Marinette both gave a slight curtsy, Alya barely hiding her grin while Marinette fought to stamp out the blush on her cheeks. “Prince Adrien.” They said in unison.

Adrien clasped his gloved hands together, smiling warmly at Alya. “Alya, if you’re up for it, I’ve received word from Ivan that the band members from last night have come to bid you adieu before we take off for Lamia. My men are more than willing to help you climb off of the bed and show you were they’re waiting.”

Alya grinned from ear to ear, her eyes lighting up despite the early hour. “Of course!”

She took a few steps towards where Adrien’s men stood waiting before she turned in a huff, her expression serious as she pointed accusingly at Adrien. “Don’t you try anything Agreste, I’ll know if you do.”

With her final warning, Alya skipped off to the edge of the bed, Wayzz clutched tightly in her arms. Adrien looked at Marinette with a light laugh, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder as Alya retreated farther away from them. “Should I be concerned?”

Marinette shrugged as she walked closer to him, trying to smother the smile that tugged at her lips. “I would say yes, but only if you do anything wrong. Are you planning to do anything wrong?”

Adrien placed his right hand over his heart, raising the other as if he were to take an oath and looked at her very seriously. “On my honor, I have no plans to wrong you, Marinette of Frell.”

Marinette giggled at his chivalry which made him break into a grin, taking her hands into his own. His thumbs rubbed in small circles on the back of her hands. “Did you sleep well?”

“Very. And you?”

“Better than I have for a while, though it was a bit torturous hearing you giggle but not being able to see it up close,” Adrien said mischievously, his eyes aglow with mirth. Marinette giggled and started to tug him over to where they needed to climb down. There was a hint of resistance and before Marinette knew it, Adrien had pulled her back towards him, just out of sight of the others before placing a quick kiss on her lips. Marinette smiled and sighed into his touch. He smelled of sandalwood and leather, something Marinette didn’t think she would like until she was immersed in it.

He pulled away just almost too soon for Marinette’s liking, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Good morning, Marinette,” He said softly, the sound of him saying her name making her want to giggle with joy. Instead, she opted for squeezing his hands in hers. “Good morning, Adrien.”

###

They said goodbye to Ivan and the other giants they had gotten to know, Adrien reaffirming his promise to reclaim their property to Ivan while Alya made Nino promise to send her a BM as soon as possible.

“BM?” Marinette asked hesitantly when Alya told her about it as they made their way to where their horses were tied. She only knew one thing called that and she doubted thats what Alya wanted from her cute friend.

“Bird Message, girl, come on, get with the times,” Alya explained, waving her off flippantly as she squirmed to get on her horse. Marinette chose not to think too hard about it as she greeted Ladybug with an affectionate rub on her head. The mare nudged Marinette’s shoulder lovingly, pressing her cheek into Marinette’s head.

“I missed you too, Ladybug.” Marinette giggled, wrapping her hands around the mare’s neck in a kind of hug before pulling away. Ladybug nudged her one more time before letting out a sharp whiney at the horse and rider coming up behind her.

“She’s taking a liking to you,” Adrien said with that smile that seemed to lighten up his entire face. “Not that I blame her.”

Marinette let out an airy laugh as she rounded on Ladybug’s saddle, the horse remaining perfectly still as she waited for her rider to mount. Adrien came up alongside her and held out a hand to her. “Here. Let me help.”

Marinette looked at him skeptically before letting him show her how to mount Ladybug without completely making a fool of herself. He showed her where to hold the pommel for a better grip before holding her bag so she could swing her leg over and get properly adjusted in the saddle. She gently readjusted her skirt to where it wasn’t folded awkwardly beneath her before smiling at Adrien. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” He replied before pulling her hand towards him and brushing a kiss against her knuckles, “my lady.”

As he walked away, Marinette caught sight of Alya who was grinning from ear to ear giving her a double thumbs up, having seen the entire thing. Marinette hid her face in her hands, her blush bringing her core temperature up a good five degrees. If her curse didn’t kill her, the rest of their ride most certainly would.

They rode for a full day, Adrien and Noir trotting alongside Marinette and Ladybug the entire way with Alya just behind on her horse, Rouge. They talked about everything from Marinette’s views on the kingdom’s economic structure to the most embarrassing things they had ever experienced. Alya stories had Adrien and Marinette in stitches for a majority of the time, both threatening to fall off their saddles as they crossed the countryside. At the end of the day, the party crested the final hill, Marinette catching the shimmering precipices of the castle spires in the distance from where it towered over the fortified city of Lamia.

Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette saw Adrien let go of his reins to take one of her hands in his. “Ready to find your godfather?”

Marinette pulled away from the beautiful cityscape to look at the man who was about to rule it all and couldn’t help but nod confidently. “Ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, another bonus chapter written purely for my own pleasure and it was WORTH IT. 
> 
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> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	14. Chapter 14

Tikki had been to Lamia numerous times before she worked for Sir Dupain and Lady Cheng. Being a gift-giving fairy had often brought her into the noblest of houses that glittered in the sun and were littered with the extravagant things that the upper echelon enjoyed to collect. Coming back as a house fairy was a bit bittersweet, knowing that she could do so much more to help Marinette if only she were with them. She had plenty of contacts in Lamia, any number of which could know how to work around the gift giving laws in order to remove hers without going back to Plagg. But Marinette was gone, off into the wilderness in search of a fairy of chaos while Tikki was busy folding frocks and listening to Dame Mendeleiev talk controversial beauty products with the local beauty technician, a young man named Alec Cataldi.

“I want to look 25 at tonight’s ball.” The older woman mused, fawning over her reflection as she consulted the man from Mace-y’s. “What do you suggest?”

The young man had a somewhat pained look on his face as he considered what all she was asking him to do. Tikki almost felt sorry for him considering he was being asked to do the impossible, trying to make mutton look like lamb. He rubbed his bald head, thinking hard for a moment before he broke out into what Tikki felt was a well rehearsed grin.

“May I recommend our newest procedure?” He suggested, taking out a small container of what looked like dark brown mush. Judging from the smell, it seemed something had died then been smashed apart. “It’s bat feces and oxen blood. We’re calling it Batox.”

Dame Mendeleiev looked at the mush with a giddy spark in her eye. Tikki looked at it like he had suggested she had to eat it instead of rubbing it on her face, neither option sounding very appealing.

“It works wonders,” Alec continued, “although I do caution you, some people have a temporarily bad reaction to it, but thats nothing to worry about.”

“Wonderful.” The dame mused greedily as the door to their summer home opened, the only other live in servant, an older butler called Hornby, standing at attention. “Announcing, Sir Tom.”

Tikki almost dropped the laundry she had been folding out of sheer joy to see her larger than life employer walk through the door. “S-sir Tom!”

The nobleman turned to look at her with the same kind smile she had learned to love over the years before turning an unfamiliarly stony faced expression on his second wife and her beauty consultant. “Philece.”

Dame Mendeleiev shoved the container of Batox away from her face hurriedly, her sharp features forming a pained smile that stretched her pasty skin unnaturally. “Tom. What are you doing here?”

Sir Tom crossed his arms over his broad chest, not looking convinced in the slightest, “I’m in town on business and heard you were here. I came to see Marinette, but Hornby has already told me that she’s not here.”

The older woman gave a fake gasp of surprise at her husbands stern tone. “Of course she’s here, I don’t know why Hornby would lie to you like that. She’s…” her eyes darted around the room, looking for a way out of the hole she had dug herself before her eyes lit up with a sudden thought- “with Chloe and Sabrina, taking a tour of the castle.”

Sir Tom didn’t look entirely convinced, but having no proof as to whether or not it was the truth, he gave up hounding her and turned to look at his house fairy. He smiled kindly at her, his mustache twitching upward as he did. “Tikki, it’s been a very long time since I’ve had a good cup of tea. Would you mind making me one?”

Tikki couldn’t put down the girls’ laundry fast enough, wiping her hands on her apron before walking out of the plush living room to follow Sir Tom to the kitchen. “It would be my honor, Sir Tom.”

###

One of the many trials of being a royal meant that every part of your life was on display, including your castle where multiple tours were given throughout the week to any number of curious tourists. Today’s bunch was a group of particularly excited young women who were a part of the Frell chapter of the Prince Adrien Fan Club, much to the young tour guide’s dismay. Mylène knew she shouldn’t have switched shifts with Nathaniel.

“Next, we move into the castle lobby,” Mylène explained as the group entered a cavernous entryway lined with plush red carpet and the portraits of past royals adorning the walls. The butterfly crest was embellished everywhere possible, on the torch holders, in the carpet, polished onto the chest plates of every knight they walked by and fluttering on the flag Mylène held to keep the group’s attention, “The castle was build at the turn of the 3rd century-“

“I can’t believe it,” one of the girls said excitedly. Mylène turned to look at the dark skinned girl who was grinning excitedly down at the carpet they were walking along. Her large fan club pin read ‘Lila’ across the bottom of it. “Prince Adrien walked on this actual floor!”

At the mention of his name, the fan club members fell on their faces, bowing down to kiss the purple carpeting. Mylène resisted the urge to run a hand down her face, opting instead to wave her tour guide flag to try and get their attention. “Ladies, ladies, ladies!”

The young women craned to look at her from where they kneeled on the carpeting, all with wide eyes and flustered expressions. Mylène gestured to them pleadingly to stand. “Stop tonguing the foyer, please.”

The young women all groaned in harmony as they rose back to their feet, looking sadly down at the floor that their idol had set foot on so many times. Mylène was ready to continue on with the tour when the club president, a girl in fluorescent yellow named Chloe, spoke up from the back of the crowd. “Show us where Adrien showers.”

Mylène looked at her incredulously, such a ridiculous request taking a moment to sink in. Before she could tell them no, that the living quarters were strictly off limits to groups like theirs, the girl beside her in bright aqua and red hair turned giddy. “I bet he showers naked!”

That sent the club members into a tizzy of girlish screams and jumping. Mylène’s shoulders drooped as she let them tire themselves out. She was never going to switch shifts with Nathaniel ever again.

Much to the oblivious young tour guide’s dismay, just outside the castle in the stables, the object of her tour’s frenzied affection was dismounting and returning home. Adrien’s men were already laughing and joking as they headed back to the barracks for some well earned rest while Marinette, Alya and Adrien said goodbye to their horses.

Before they could get inside, however, the group hit a snag. While Adrien and Marinette were enveloped in one another’s company, the knights guarding the entrance to the castle moved and blocked Alya from entering. “Hold it, pipsqueak.”

Alya stood up straighter, her hands on her hips as she stared up at her opponent defiantly. “First, I’m with the prince, you literally just saw me walking with him. Second, I’m not that short.”

If the knights were concerned with Alya’s argument, they gave no indication of it. “Are you singing at the coronation?”

Alya snorted at the absurdity of what he was suggesting. “Heck, no.”

“No elves in the palace unless they’re performing.”

Alya ground her teeth, stepping closer to the knights and poking at their shiny breast plates with an accusatory finger. “This is discrimination. Intentional infliction of-” before she could finish her tirade, one of the knights picked her up by the back of her overalls and hauled her out of the stable gates to drop her in the used hay that had collected just outside. There was the abrupt slam of the gates and Alya sat there in shock at what had just transpired. “-bodily harm.”

Back in the castle, the tour was continuing up the foyer towards the gathering hall, Mylène pausing at the end of the portrait gallery to gesture at the newest addition to the collection. It was an elaborately done painting of Prince Adrien and King Gabriel in their best refinery, crowns and jewels shimmering like the real things. Neither smiled, and their statuesque figures made it seem like the father and son were carved from stone instead of flesh and blood. Mylène waved her flag at it, “This portrait was recently commissioned in honor of tomorrow’s coronation.”

Suddenly, a smaller pair of doors leading out to the stables opened and there was the man of the hour standing hand in hand with a woman that Mylène had never seen in the castle. They were smiling, having a pleasant conversation until the surprised gasps of the fan club caught their attention, both of them going wide-eyed with a mixture of shock and fear at being caught. There was a moments pause as the fan club registered how close they were to the prince of the kingdom before they let out an ear drum bursting scream in unison, abandoning their tour in favor of chasing the object of their excessive desire. There was the whisper of gowns on the marble flooring before Mylène was left alone in the foyer wondering what had just happened.

###

In all of the chaos, somehow Marinette and Adrien had managed to duck in and out of various rooms in order to lose Adrien’s obsessed fan base. They slammed the door shut to a small conservatory on the far side of the castle with labored breath, both pausing with their backs pressed against the door. Marinette wanted to scream. She would recognize those eye blinding dresses from a mile away, let alone when they’re staring her down from ten feet. If Chloe and Sabrina were in the castle, things were going to get a lot more complicated. She needed to act fast.

Marinette ran her hands through her hair, pulling at her pig tails anxiously as she worried a hole in her cheek, “This is bad, this is bad, this is _so_ bad.” She turned on Adrien who was looking at her with the most sincere look of concern she had seen and tried to smile, the effort turning it more into a worried smirk. “I don’t mean to rush, but now I really need to find my godfather.”

She looked around and with a panicked leap of her pulse, realized that her partner in crime was no longer by her side. “And Alya too. Oh no, where is she?”

Adrien took her hands in one of his to keep her from pulling out her pigtails, using the other to turn her face towards him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey. It’s okay, take a breath, Marinette.” He smiled softly and Marinette felt herself melt a bit, the gentleness of his touch bringing her back down to earth. “My father will send the guards to find her. Everything is going to be fine.” His smile turned wicked. “Don’t forget, you are with the future king.”

Marinette let out a short laugh, immediately regretting inflating his ego with all her talk of him being an actually decent monarch. “Keep talking like that and your crown won’t fit that big head you’re getting.”

Adrien lit up, happy to see her acting like her normal self instead of panicked and scared. “There she is, there’s my princess.”

Marinette’s cheeks went hot at what all that nickname could mean, especially when coming from the mouth of an actual royal. Adrien must have realized it too because his grip suddenly went clammy as his eyes darted around the conservatory. “Um, that is to say, what I meant-“

“Adrien.”

The two young people jumped away as if their touch had physically burned. Marinette twisted her fingers together as she looked to see who had managed to sneak up on them when she came face to face with the stern expression of King Gabriel. He stood from where he had been perched on one of the benches that was situated amongst the flora growing in the greenhouse, an older looking woman with the same serious demeanor standing beside him. He was dressed in deep plum colored robes with black and gold filigree woven into the collar and sleeves. He had a staff resting across his knees and his crown sat regally on his platinum blonde hair. Marinette’s mouth went dry. For all her talk, actually meeting the king was much more intimidating than protesting his politics in the village square.

Adrien seemed to flip a mental switch and Marinette watched her warm and sunny partner suddenly go cold with a flat expression as he considered the older man with little affection. “Hello, Father.”

King Gabriel rose from his seat among the orchids to walk over to where the young couple stood waiting. Adrien seemed to physically put up a wall the closer his father got, straightening until he was a good inch taller than he typically was, while Marinette refrained from shrinking back at the chill overwhelming her from the father and son.

“I’ve been wondering where you were,” He stated bluntly, Marinette not hearing an ounce of actual concern in his tone as he considered his son. He turned his icy gaze on Marinette. “And who might this young woman be?”

Adrien took a small step towards Marinette in a protective way, gesturing to her with one of his hands. “This is Marinette, Father. Marinette Dupain-Cheng of Frell. Marinette, this is my father, Gabriel.” He gestured to the woman who had come over to stand at the kings left hand, “And this is his… Natalie.”

Natalie managed a stiff bow, her expression never changing from the flat facade she had had since they entered.

“I trust your journey was pleasant,” Gabriel asked, ignoring Adrien’s companion entirely in favor of grilling his son. Marinette felt the need to speak up, lest Adrien freeze over completely. She rested her hand on Adrien’s forearm and she could see him soften some out of the corner of her eye as she put on her most winning smile. “We had a little run-in with some ogres, but Adrien got the best of them.”

Gabriel turned on his son. “That was very reckless of you, Adrien. You could have been killed.”

Adrien’s eyes dropped down to the cobblestone flooring, “I know but-“

“-He saved my life, Your Majesty,” Marinette interjected, feeling a rush of protectiveness for Adrien at the sight of him being reprimanded for doing a good deed. “I think you should be very proud of your son for thinking of the lives of your citizens before his own.”

The king turned his hawkish gaze on her, staring down his nose at her, as someone might consider a fly before squashing it. There was a moment’s pause before he closed his eyes, as if deep in thought. “Well, that’s in the past. Better to forget it entirely.”

The woman at his side, Natalie, if Marinette recalled correctly, cleared her throat, calling the group’s attention to what she had to say. “Prince Adrien, if I might trouble you for a moment, the crown maker needs to see you in your chambers for a fitting.”

Adrien nodded. “Right, of course, but first,” he slipped his hand into Marinette’s, giving it a firm squeeze, “I just have to take Marinette to the hall of records and then I will meet you there.”

“Yes, well, hop to it, then, both of you. We mustn't keep the crown maker waiting,” King Gabriel ordered. At the hint of a command, Marinette’s body seized and suddenly she was hopping her way over to the door, throwing it open and continuing to hop back inside the main castle. Adrien watched her go with a puzzled look before he looked at his father with a shrug. He turned and mimicked Marinette’s hopping, bouncing after her to lead the way to the hall of records. When the door finally closed behind them, King Gabriel let out a sniff of disgust.

“The intel gathered from the Forest of Pim was right about that girl. Very odd.”

“Indeed, Your Majesty,” Natalie concurred, “And I’m afraid that she’s been filling the young master’s head with dangerous thoughts.”

The king studied the closed door with calculating coldness, his expression unreadable as he went through all the different scenarios that could occur thanks to what that silly girl was doing to his son. “We’ll need to fix that then, won’t we.”

###

The Hall of Records was basically just one over-sized library that was filled with every thought and record that had ever been written down since the royal family first set up the kingdom of Kyrria. The room was floor to ceiling books, everything from what looked like normal non-fiction, to robust encyclopedias containing all the information any visitor would ever hope for when perusing the dusty shelves. The room smelled of yellowing paper and old leather, the feeble light filtering from the small windows doing little to help fight off the darkness in the shelves. It was an intimidating prospect, looking for a single person among the thousands of censuses and records that had been kept hidden away here. Still, Marinette was determined to find her needle in the haystack if it took the rest of her life.

“I’m afraid I won’t be much help to you in here,” Adrien said morosely as he scratched at the back of his neck with his free hand, his other never leaving hers since he got her to stop hopping. Luckily he had just thought it was some cute game so Marinette had been able to play off the whole episode with relative ease. “I’ve read a lot of the books in here, but when it comes to basic informational textbooks, I’m hopeless at locating the right ones. Luckily, there’s someone who can.”

They made their way to the front desk where a wiry young man wearing spectacles with combed back red hair sat. He was pouring over a book filled with what looked like hieroglyphics and was caught off guard when Adrien rapt on the top of his desk. The young man jumped, nearly spilling his ink well, as he stared at the two young people in shock. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, you could have given me a heart attack!”

Adrien chuckled, gesturing to the young man with a satisfied smile at having made him jump. “This is Jalil Kubdel, the royal archivist. He knows the stacks like the back of his hand and can get you whatever you need.”

“Almost anything,” Jalil said flatly, “I’m not a maid you know.”

“Alright, anything you want, within reason,” Adrien amended before leaning down to kiss Marinette’s cheek. Marinette sighed happily, squeezing his hands as he pulled away with a soft smile on his face. His green eyes glowed luminously in the candlelight that was flickering in the lantern on Jalil’s desk. “I’ll see you tonight at the ball, alright? There’s a lot I want to talk to you about.”

Marinette looked up at him defiantly, a smug look on her face. “I’m sorry, Prince Adrien, I don’t believe I ever agreed to going with you to any ball.”

Adrien returned the cunning grin, his lopsided smile so much better than any perfect one she had seen on the posters or in the magazines he often adorned. “You came all this way with me, and you won’t even save me a single dance? I’m hurt, m’lady.”

Marinette’s heart skipped a beat at his tone, butterflies beating a hurricane in her stomach. “O-Okay. I _guess_ I’ll see you then.”

“Perfect. I’ll have Natalie find you something to wear.” He gave her a quick peck on the lips before jogging out the library doors. “Good luck looking for your godfather!”

Marinette waved goodbye, sighing to herself as she watched him disappear, left to herself and visions of ball room dances with a handsome man. It wasn’t until Jalil let out a sharp cough did Marinette wake up from her reprieve. She had better things to be doing than fantasizing about Adrien. She had to find Plagg.

She turned to face the front desk and saw that Jalil was considering her with a dull expression, his half-lidded eyes barely peaking over the rims of his spectacles. “Please tell me you didn’t come to find the first edition of some claptrap like Romeo and Juliet. Any more sap like what you two just did and I may end up losing my lunch.”

Marinette clenched her fists at her sides, looking at him as seriously as she could manage while trying to stamp out any hint of embarrassment she felt about him seeing her and Adrien like that. “No, I am not here for fiction. I’m looking for the latest census records, specifically for the last known location of a resident residing here in Lamia.”

At the mention of pure information gathering, Jalil seemed to relax, rising from his seat and motioning for her to follow after him into the towing shelves. He was taller than her, and with his long legs, Marinette had to jog to keep up with his fast pace as he ducked and weaved around corners and past book stacks that had been left to gather on the floor. Eventually, he found the version that she needed and left her to sit at one of the various tables scattered amongst the stacks. 

“Names are listed first by location then species,” Jalil explained as Marinette blew the dust off of the ten pound book. He looked at her warily, as if knowing that she would be disturbing his peace for longer than he had been hoping for. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Marinette called as Jalil disappeared once again behind another stack of books and was out of sight. Finally alone, Marinette reached into the bag she had picked up in Giantville and pulled Wayzz out for a bit of fresh air and some more polite company while she searched. When she showed him the census book, her friend let out a low whistle, taking in the sheer size of it.

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, Marinette, but as I said before, I don’t have a census.”

“I know, Wayzz, its okay,” Marinette comforted him as she started to peel back the many layers of the census’s first few pages.

“I mean, look at the size of that thing,” Wayzz exclaimed in a quiet voice, afraid of calling Jalil back over to investigate the new voice in the stacks. In a turn of personality, Wayzz cracked a silly smile. “I do have a restaurant guide, though. Everything from five star culinary bistros to no star shacks.”

Marinette giggled at his attempt to make light of the serious boredom they were facing. “Thanks, Wayzz. Remind me to check that out next time we’re wandering around.”

With that, she turned back to the census. It was massive, covering every citizen both human and nonhuman that lived in Kyrria and was sorted by county, name and species. Hopefully the defined organization would help aid in the process, but none the less, it was going to take a while to find the fairy she was looking for. Marinette took a deep breath. “Plagg, I hope you’re in here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH NO HERE WE GO - A CHALLENGER APPROACHES TO FIGHT KING GABRIELS CONTROL OVER HIS SON. How will it end???? 
> 
> Also, an announcement! I typically just update on Tuesdays, but recently my BETA finished editing the last chapter of Ever After which means its all done and edited! I shall now be updating not only on Tuesdays but on Thursdays as well!! YIPPEE!
> 
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> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	15. Chapter 15

Adrien felt as light as a feather as he stood looking at himself in the full length mirror that was propped against his bedroom wall. He had a dopey grin on his face that would no doubt freeze on his face like that, as his mother might have told him if she were there to witness it. Then again, he was sure she would have just been thrilled to have seen him smiling again. It had been a very long time since he had had any good reason to smile, and within the castle and at that moment, the reason for his overflowing glee was sitting in the stacks where he had left her not fifteen minutes before. Adrien wished he could will time to go faster. The less time spent here, the more he could spend sitting with Marinette and talking to her about his very important proposition.

“Marinette has a lot of interesting opinions about the kingdom, Father.” Adrien mused, making a weak attempt at conversation with his father who had been sitting at Adrien’s desk signing papers since the tailor had started measuring his son. “You should hear them.”

King Gabriel peered over the top of his silver spectacles with the same measured expression that Adrien used to spend hours trying to figure out. The young man had since given up trying to unravel his father’s perplexing emotional withdrawal, but in times like these when he was so excited, he wished that his father could find it in himself to have some kind of extroverted response. But all he managed was a monotonous, “I can’t wait.”

Adrien gulped, raising an arm so that the tailor could take a good measurement of his chest. “The giants’ working conditions, for instance. They’re horrendous. Luckily, I’ve talked to them and they’re open for negotiations so as to avoid any unnecessary-“

“The only negotiations between me and the giants,” Gabriel interjected abruptly, his gaze averted down to where his quill tip was paused on the signature line, “will be over our vegetable deliveries.”

Adrien’s jaw worked over and over as he took a measured breath. He wasn’t one to get angry, after so many years of being oppressed by his father's outright disrespect of his only son, he had learned to have a thick skin. But this was more than just Adrien that he was putting down, this was the well being of his countrymen. Adrien shooed away the tailor to turn on his father, keeping his gaze firm as he stood his ground. “This isn’t a joke, Father.”

“We’ll talk about it after your coronation,” His father said flatly, a sure sign that he had no intention of allowing his son to remind him of frivolous endeavors. Adrien’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Fine, but we will talk.”

“Of course.” King Gabriel responded noncommittally as he handed off a few contracts and edicts to Natalie.

Adrien turned back to look at himself in the mirror and all he could wonder was whether or not Marinette would be proud to have seen him stand up to his father in such a way. Marinette, who stood up to ogres. Marinette, who talked fearlessly with giants. Marinette, who didn’t falter when she stood before the king. Adrien typically would have let matters lie and just agreed to whatever his father wished of him, not wanted to strain their already strenuous relationship with unneeded strife. That was before Marinette showed him the injustice that lurked in his own backyard, and how he could have the power to right it if he only took a chance at using it. He wanted to make her proud.

He also wanted something else of her too, something far more personal than he had been willing to express so quickly in the library before they parted ways. Something that couldn’t be conducted so casually in between stacks of books.

“I… I’m going to ask her to marry me,” Adrien confessed in a small voice, the act of uttering the words making his mouth go dry and his heart beat rapidly in his chest. It was so simple, but saying it out loud made it all the more real and had Adrien go pink with unrepressed delight. He twisted at the silver ring he always wore on his right hand nervously as he waited for his father's response like a condemned man waits for the noose.

“Who?” Gabriel asked, the slightest bit of annoyance creeping into his voice. “This… Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” He spoke her name as if he was speaking of some dirty animal that was found wailing at the castle gates.

“Yes,” Adrien said, determined not to back down from the one thing he wasn’t willing to give up. Adrien had coveted few things in his life, but none more than his relationship with Marinette and he was not going to let his father get in the way of that. “Tonight, at the ball. At the same time and in the same place as you proposed to mother.”

“She’s a commoner, Adrien.” The King said pompously, his disrespect of Adrien’s choice making his blood boil.

“Her family has a title, her father’s a nobleman-” Adrien retorted, turning on his father once again, his voice clipped short by his mounting temper.

“-and it’s barely one at that. The daughter of a knight in a small county that provides little to no promising alliance with the royal family. Daughters of knights don’t marry princes, Adrien.” His answer was measured and sure, the appropriate response for someone who was looking for breeding instead of a relationship for their child’s partner. Clearly, Adrien was going to have to fight an uphill battle when it came to getting his way, but before he could, there was a commotion just outside the living quarters.

“Get off! This is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous! Do you know who I am?”

Gabriel waved Natalie away from the door, picking up his staff and proceeding to step out into the hallways himself, leaving Adrien to ponder his thoughts while the tailor assumed his stressful and tedious work.

Outside the door, a pair of guards held two girls by either arm, both young women screeching odiously and squirming to get out of their grasps. One was blonde in yellow, the other a red head in aqua, and as the king got a closer look at the two castle crashers, he noticed the familiar Adrien Fan Club pins.

“What is the meaning of this,” He asked sternly, descending the steps to meet them on the tower landing. “What are you two doing here?”

“Y-Your majesty!” The blonde stuttered with a simpering smile, bowing into an over exaggerated curtsy that was quickly copied by her sister. “We’re so sorry to intrude, we were only looking for our servant Marinette-“

“Marinette,” Gabriel repeated, the gears slowly working in his head as he examined the two young women. “As in, Marinette Dupain-Cheng of Frell?”

“Yes sire, she’s our sister!” The red head chirped, earning a sharp elbow in the side from her accomplice.

Gabriel stood there patiently for a moment longer before he waved the guards off of the two girls. “Escort them to my quarters. I wish to have a word with them.”

###

“So, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is your sister,” King Gabriel mused, setting aside his tea cup. He had sequestered the two upstart girls in his study, a not-so-cozy nook with dark wood panelling and covered in past family portraits. A painting of his wife hung behind his chair, the only bright color spot in the gloomy room, not to mention the only one smiling. The two young girls sat nervously across from the monarch, the blonde feigning mock aloofness while her sister slurped her tea, her shaky fingers making the cup rattle against the saucer.

The blonde, Chloe he believed her name was, gave an obnoxious pop of her bubble gum. “Step-sister, actually,” She corrected, putting particularly heavy emphasis on the word step.

“Really?” King Gabriel peered over the top of his spectacles curiously, folding his hands on top of his desk. “Tell me, what do you know about her?”

“What’s in it for me?” Chloe retorted, clearly not willing to give up any information without some type of reward for her services. Gabriel sat quietly for a moment, studying the Fan Club pins they coveted so dearly before an idea sprang to mind.

“Why don’t we just cut to the chase, hm?” He said flatly, not willing to play any games with these naive young girls any longer, not when he could get information that could play to his advantage. “I might be willing to throw Prince Adrien into the deal.”

That got the girls’ attention, both of them going stiff still, the redhead, Sabrina, almost dropping her tea entirely from the shock of it.

“After the coronation, he’ll need to take a queen, and shall we say… his hand in marriage?” It was all a bluff. Gabriel would never allow these girls to marry his son, not someone of so fine a breeding that he could tract their lineage back to the first kings of Kyrria. These girls didn’t know that though, and right then he would rather tell them some ridiculous lie in order to get the information he needed on the upstart in his son’s life.

Sabrina had taken to fanning herself with a dopey smile on her face, overwhelmed by the fantasy of a title. “Queen Sabrina,” she said breathlessly before getting another smack on the shoulder from her sister. Sensing a difference in power between the two, Gabriel turned on Chloe.

“The offer would be for the eldest daughter, of course,” He assured her. The young woman thought for a moment before leaping to her feet, placing both palms flat against the desk with a fire in her eye before unburdening herself of the knowledge she had been sitting on for quite some time. “Marinette does everything, and I mean everything, she’s told. I don’t know why, but she does. She can’t help it.”

Gabriel sat back in his chair, stewing on what she had just told him, and almost managed a smile. A girl with a knack for doing everything she’s told. That, he could use to his advantage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUUNNNNN
> 
> Also, two updates in one week? It's more likely than you think. 
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
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> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	16. Chapter 16

Marinette’s head dropped heavily onto the book before her, unable to read any more than she already had. The words had started to swim across the page and do figure eights in the air from how long she had been staring at the heavy pages. She let out a soft moan, the sound muffled by the pages covering her mouth. “I can’t find anything in any of these books.”

She sat up, leaning back with her hands pressed against her lower back. Once she heard the satisfying crack of her lower back, she turned to her now dozing companion, lightly taping on the front cover of Wayzz book. “Wayzz, show me Plagg.”

Wayzz complied, the picture painting itself to reveal the same thing it had for the past hour, Plagg asleep in an upturned bed, blankets and clothing thrown haphazardly around the room. She watched his nose twitch in his sleep before he turned back to the wall, his back facing her. Marinette let out a disenchanted sigh while Wayzz said what they were both thinking, “No, still sleeping.”

“Wayzz, I’m starting to lose hope,” Marinette said quietly, resting her elbows on the pages as she combed through her bangs, pouring over the picture before her, trying to find any outstanding detail that could clue into where he was. “I don’t know where else to…”

Thats when she caught sight of a crumpled up flier laying on the floor of Plagg’s room. It looked as if it had been pulled from the wall and simply thrown to the ground along with the rest of the mess, but at least she could read what was on it clear enough. A little fairy was laid up in bed looking content above a list of rules that Plagg was obviously not going to follow considering his pulling it off the wall. Above the happy fairy was a name. “Dun Flyin’ Retirement Community for Fairies?”

She quickly closed Wayzz, ignoring his scream of surprise, to start flipping through the census once again. She had seen that name before, but she couldn’t be sure until she found a list of hostels in Lamia. From there, it was simply turning to the correct page to find a list of residents that had been enrolled at the community for an extended amount of time. Listed in the residents, just below the L’s, was the name “Plagg” in curly writing.

“Plagg, Dun Flying Retirement Community for Faries, Lamia Heights. Wayzz! Wayzz, we’ve found him!” Marinette squealed as she stared down at the name with an exuberant smile, almost breathless with the discovery.

“Hello, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng,” a low voice called from the end of the row of books she had been occupying for most of the afternoon. Marinette quickly covered Wayzz’s mirror with some spare bits of parchment she had been doodling on to keep King Gabriel and his assistant from seeing him. The king stepped closer to her table, one hand resting on his staff while the other was clasped behind him in a business like manner. “Or do you prefer to be called Marinette?”

“Marinette is fine, Your Majesty,” Marinette said with a curtsy, giving his assistant Natalie a small bow out of respect.

The king reached out and examined a few of the books that were stacked up on the table from previous occupants, his expression never changing. “I hope you have found everything to your satisfaction. I’m told Jalil is an excellent resource for all things knowledgeable.”

“Yes sir, thank you. He had been a big help when it comes to helping me find what I need.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said in a low voice, nodding his satisfaction before ever so gently knocking the two or three books that were perched on the edge of the table off and onto the floor. “Oh, dear. How clumsy of me. Pick it up, Marinette.”

In a knee jerk reaction to the command, Marinette practically threw herself onto the floor to pick up the books before slamming them onto the table with enough ferocity to make Natalie flinch in surprise. King Gabriel seemed to consider this for a moment, allowing Marinette to collect herself as she was kneeling next to the table, shakily coming to her feet as she tried to come to terms with the shock of the command. It had been intentional, that was for sure. Most people did them on accident, but Marinette knew that King Gabriel was not a man of mishaps.

“Touch your toes,” King Gabriel said flatly and Marinette complied. She doubled over as if she had been clotheslined in the stomach, her fingertips pressed firmly into the tips of her boots with an undignified grunt. She let out a sharp gasp and muttered to her toes in defeat. “Oh, no.”

She wasn’t sure how or who had told him, but the king of the land had figured out her secret and now had Marinette wrapped around his little finger against her own will.

“When we first met, I told you to jump and you jumped,” The king mused, considering her with an almost scientific kind of backwards interest. “I’d like for you to do that again.”

“Please, no,” Marinette whimpered, her fingers trembling where they were pressed into her toes.

“Jump up and down,” he commanded more gruffly, the hard edge to his voice making her heart jump with fright as she straightened and began to hop in place, her expression not matching her actions.

King Gabriel watched her almost amusedly, waiting a few agonizing moments before he waved a hand. “Alright, stop and freeze.”

Marinette did as she was told, she had no choice, going stony faced as he approached. Gently, he took a gloved finger and held it under her chin, turning her head from side to side as if he were inspecting cattle instead of a young girl. “You know, if you were someone of any actual consequences, I might have enjoyed having you around. Someone who completely obeys whatever is asked of her. What a lovely gift to have.”

He pulled his finger away and Marinette felt the instinctive need to go home and scrub her face vigorously. She had never felt so violated in her life and considering recent events, that was saying a lot. But he had told her to freeze, leaving her unable to bite his stupid finger, let alone run away.

The king paid no mind to this, placing his free hand back behind him as he started in on what felt like a very well rehearsed speech. “As you know, tonight is the coronation ball. At some point, amidst your frolicking and romancing, my son will sweep you away to the hall of mirrors.”

Marinette bit the inside of her lip, all that he was telling her a bit overwhelming. Why would Adrien sweep her away?

“Then,” King Gabriel continued, “just before midnight, he will take you by the hand and ask you a question.”

“How do you know this,” Marinette barked, her choked response all that she could manage as she tried to sift through all that the king was telling her.

“We know everything,” Natalie said simply.

“And the one thing we know with most certainty, dear Mademoiselle,” Gabriel explained as he held out a hand to his assistant. Natalie reached into the papers that she was clutching and produced a dark colored knife with a shimmering ruby inlaid handle from its hiding place before handing it to her employer. The king turned it over once or twice before holding it out to Marinette, one pointer finger on the belt while the other was pressed into the knife’s blade tip. There was a haunting look in his eye that made Marinette’s blood run cold and her heart leap into her throat, “is that at the stroke of midnight, you will take this dagger and plunge it through his heart, killing him.”

Marinette screamed as she fought against the tempting pull of her gift, tears clouding her vision as she kept her arms pinned to her sides. “No! No, I won’t do it!” Marinette sobbed, choking on the emotion as she stared down at the knife as if it were about to stab her instead of Adrien. “I won’t do it.”

She sobbed it over and over again like a mantra, but still, King Gabriel and his icy assistant paid her remorse no mind.

“Oh, yes, you will,” the king snapped, “You will, because I order you to.”

The forcefulness of his conviction was enough to dislodge her right hand from her side to yank the knife from his hand and return it to her side. The metal of the hilt bit into her hand with the force of how hard she squeezed it.

“What a good girl,” Gabriel said in a sickeningly sweet tone with a mild smile to match. “I’m so lucky to have you here, Marinette. This way, I won’t have to do the dirty deed myself.”

That broke Marinette’s heart, her wobbly legs nearly giving out from under her, but she couldn’t, wouldn’t, give them the satisfaction of seeing her crumble before them. Her lip quivered and her throat was thick with unshed emotion, but still she had to know. “Y-you… You would kill your own son?”

“Thanks to you, he’s proving to be more of a nuisance that what I was hoping he would be. I did the same to my vassal once he had out lived his welcome,” Gabriel said in an even tone, as if they were discussing the weather instead the unsightly murder and subsequent ostracizing of an entire sub race of people.

“W-Why?” Marinette howled, tears leaking down her face as she fought to understand through the maelstrom that had kicked up inside of her. “Why would you do any of this?”

“I want to be king,” Was the old man’s only response. He waved one hand as if he were swatting away a pesky fly. “Now go.”

Marinette did as she was told, wanting to get as far away as possible from the disgusting man and his dispassionate assistant, but before she could go, the knife still firmly gripped in her right hand, the king called her back. “Wait. There’s one more thing.”

She unwillingly stopped in her tracks, still close enough to hear him say, “You will tell no one of this plan.”

Marinette gave a sharp sniff, barely managing to keep her composure before the king finally dismissed her. Marinette took off and didn’t stop running until she eventually collapsed outside the castle gates, sobbing uncontrollably at the feet of what she was sure was one of many statues of her victim and the one who called the hit on him. She gripped the knife still, the gems cutting into her palm painfully. Still, she couldn’t find it in herself to part with it.

She was going to kill Adrien. King Gabriel had asked her to kill his son and if she stayed in Lamia, there was a good possibility that it would come to fruition. She looked at the knife’s blade and saw her own desperate expression staring back at her. This was the final straw. The nail in her casket. She had to put a stop to her curse, now more than ever if she was ever going to be able to live with herself. She tucked the knife into her belt at her hip before wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm.

First thing’s first, she had to find Dun Flyin’ Retirement Community and make Plagg see reason, even if it meant threatening him at knife point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's where it all goes to crap cause Gabriel is a jerk. Marinette also makes the wrong choice. 
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	17. Chapter 17

The Dun Flyin’ Retirement Home for Fairies was tucked away in a crowded and noisy section of Lamia known as Lamia Height. Clotheslines hung with that day’s wash were strewn between cottages while neighbors shouted at one another from upper story windows. At the corners, street vendors hawked everything from newspapers to hunks of freshly grilled meat. Marinette pulled her hood tighter around her face as she passed by a rather noisy lute player on a street corner in hopes of not being guilted into tipping him for the unwanted music. Carriages were bumper to bumper while alleyways were cluttered with the unwanted people of Lamia and beyond. The retirement home was made to look like a cozy little hideaway, but amidst the hustle and bustle, combined with grime-covered walls and chipping paint, it looked more like a halfway house than somewhere you’d want to spend the rest of your days.

Marinette caught one of the workers just outside the side door taking out the trash, a perky looking girl with bright purple eyes and a shock of orange hair. Judging from the way she magicked the trash into the bin, she was a fairy through and through. The name tag pinned to her apron said ‘Trixx’.

“Excuse me,” Marinette called, pulling her hood away as she got closer. Seeing that she wasn’t some type of beggar or hawker, the young woman gave a wry Cheshire smile that lit up her fox-like features. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Plagg, he’s supposed to be staying here.” Marinette wrung her hands urgently in front of her, eyes darting from side to side in a nervous manner. Time was running out. If she didn’t find Plagg… “It’s kind of urgent.”

Trixx’s smile went sour. Clearly she had met Plagg. “Sorry, he was kicked out last week.”

Marinette grit her teeth, her frustration growing with ever passing moment. “Do you know where I can find him?”

The worker rested her hands on her hips, cocking one out to the side as she thought before giving a bright, “Nope.”

Marinette suddenly felt like the walls of the alleyway were closing in all around her as the light at the end of the tunnel started to go out. “You don’t understand. If I don’t find him, something terrible will happen.”

Trixx scoffed, turning back towards the alleyway door. “Girl, finding Plagg would be something terrible.” She slammed the door behind her, and suddenly Marinette felt very cold and filled with a dread that sank into her body and soul. This was her last ditch attempt at breaking the curse. How was she going to be rid of it now? Her throat started to close as an idea dawned on her, one that made her heart break into more pieces than what could ever be mended. She drifted through Lamia Heights until she found a less than quiet coffee house where she could work in anonymous bliss. She tore a few pieces of paper out of her sketchbook along with her quill and ink, then set to work writing the hardest letter of her life.

Once she had deemed it at least partically decent in terms of explanation, she waved down a servant in royal colors. She gave him a gold coin to take the letter straight to Prince Adrien at the palace. If he mentioned the name ‘Marinette’ to the guards, he was sure to get an audience with his highness so that he could hand off the letter to him. Marinette was sure he could care less about the why, so long as he got his gold coin, but took the letter nonetheless. Moments later, he was galloping off towards the palace, leaving Marinette to ponder in his dust.

_Now, if she stayed clear of the prince until midnight had passed,_

_then Adrien would be safe._

_But how long could that last?_

###

Marinette somehow managed to find Alya amongst the thousands of people littered about the Lamia byways, staring up at the sky as she laid on one of the border walls that separated the walkway from one of the many canals that snaked through the Capital City. She had a piece of grass in her mouth and had her classic pout as she stared frustratedly up at the sky above, as if daring the clouds to cover her sunshine.

“Alya, where have you been?” Marinette fumbled as she cornered her elf friend. The young woman leaned to the side to where she could prop her chin in her hand, chewing on the grass with a curious look in her eye. “What are you doing?”

Alya looked like she was about to answer, but Marinette merely waved her away in a fit of frustration. “Never mind. This may sound strange, but there’s something I need you to do for me, Alya.”

Judging by how she huffed and puffed all the way out of the city, Alya was struggling to understand what exactly they were doing hiking through a sprawling sunflower patch carrying heavy chains they had stolen off of a sleeping blacksmith’s stockpile. When Marinette asked her to padlock her to an old oak situated in the middle of the field, Alya let out a sharp laugh, void of laughter but full of surprise.

“Marinette, I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but you are one freaky chick.”

“Yes, yes I know and I’ll explain it to you later, but before that I need you to do one more thing for me,” Marinette asked urgently of her, chained against the trunk with her hands pinned to her side. She was uncomfortable, that was for sure, but what was a little discomfort when it meant that the love of her life could live to see tomorrow?

Judging by how Alya looked at her with slitted eyes and a hesitant posture as she rocked on her heels, she was starting to have doubts about Marinette’s state of mind. “I don’t know, girl, is it going to be like the last favor I did for you?” She asked, gesturing to the chains.

“I need you to go back into the forest and gather all the elves and giants you can find,” Marinette explained urgently. Surely Alya, along with some back up like Ivan or Nino and his band, could keep Adrien safe and as far away from his father as possible, at least until tomorrow when the spell would wear off and she could explain everything. Coronation balls weren’t the real coronation, so missing it wouldn’t be a big deal for Adrien, right?

Alya scoffed, gesturing frantically at the forest that was quickly darkening as the sun fell back towards the horizon. “You want me to go back in there?”

“Yes, you’ll need all the help you can get. Someone has to get into the castle, find Wayzz, and keep Adrien away from his father,” Marinette explained, her heart growing tighter in her chest with every word she spoke. Not only was she a danger to Adrien, but in the ensuing chaos she had forgotten Wayzz back in the library. If the castle guard didn’t kill her for whatever happened tonight, Tikki most certainly would whenever she broke the news to her.

“Why?” Alya asked, her voice becoming tinged with concern along with her continuing disbelief. “What’s going on?”

Marinette grit her teeth, her jaw working as she went over the situation for what felt like the millionth time. “I already told you, Alya, I can’t tell you.” Alya opened her mouth, always ready to protest, but Marinette cut her off. “But if you don’t do this, you might very well be stuck singing ‘Kumbaya’ for the rest of your life.”

The shock of hearing Marinette scold her, coupled with the horrifying thought of being stuck in show business with no way out, must have outweighed Alya’s intrinsic need for self preservation. She let out a long and frustrated sigh, digging her hands into her overall pockets like a tired toddler. “Fine!”

Alya spun on her heel, facing the Forest of Pim where it loomed just beyond the edge of the flower field, her arms now waving about her dramatically. “Into the forest of certain death walks Alya! Will anyone ever see her again? Probably not!”

Marinette smiled, happy to see her rather flamboyant friend still endearingly loyal. “Thank you!” She called, leaning forward to where her voice carried past where she was tied up.

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” Alya responded, giving a sharp wave of her hand before she disappeared from Marinette’s line of sight. She sighed, leaning back to where her head rested against the tree bark. Maybe now, everything would be okay. Alya would come back with reinforcements, they would protect Adrien, and she would fight to hell and back to keep herself from touching a hair on his head and following the king’s horrendous edict. She’d make sure he’d live, even if it meant she never saw his beautiful smile again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plagg is still no where to be found and then Marinette makes some weird choices. 
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
> Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shelbyecandraw  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/shelbyecandraw  
> Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	18. Chapter 18

The coronation ball for the only son of the king was by far the most extravagant event the kingdom had ever seen. Purple banners with the family crest fluttered at every street corner and from every balcony. Posters advertising the ball were plastered on every free wall, window and door, all adorned with a charming picture of the king to be. Sadly, the picture didn’t live up to what Adrien was feeling at that moment in the ball that night.

The grand ballroom hadn’t really been used since Adrien’s mother passed away, his father finding it hard to celebrate anything in her absence. But that night, the staff had pulled out all the stops.

Every surface was polished enough to where they’re was a reflection everywhere you looked. Goblets inlaid with precious stones were walked around on silver platters by stiffly dressed servants. Noblemen and women were dressed in their best refinery, either dancing to twinkling quintet music or rubbing elbows with one another. Everyone gathered seemed to be having the time of their lives, all except for the guest of honor.

Adrien was reclined in the throne situated at the end of the ballroom, raised above where the others giggled and twittered among themselves. Compared to his guests, the prince was dressed more like a mourner in a funeral procession than a royal celebrating his impending coronation. He was clad in all black and sat back watching the festivities with a far away look in his eye. What none of the party-goers would ever know is that he was indeed in mourning, for the love of his life had broken his heart that night thereby killing his party mood for the foreseeable future.

He had been looking at the engagement ring when one of the servants came fumbling in. He was out of breath, like he had run all the way from the front gates to see him, and was clutching a letter addressed to him in beautiful red inked penmanship. He regretted opening it the moment he read the opening line.

 

_Dear Adrien,_

_This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and I hope you’ll understand._

_We can’t be together. I can’t tell you why. Please believe that this is the_

_only solution and that I wish you the best._

_I really do believe that you’re going to be a great king._

_Goodbye forever,_

_Marinette_

 

That was it. No real explanation. No real goodbye. Just a cryptic letter that left Adrien alone and confused as he held his shattered heart. As he sat and stewed, he was already making plans to go and find her, to demand why she would leave him like that when he was under the notion that she felt the same for him. But before any of that could happen though, he’d have to survive the ball and his coronation. Then he would put the powers of a king to the test when it came to finding one incredible, beautiful and illusive girl amongst thousands of others.

While he planned and plotted quietly, his father and Natalie encircled his chair on either side, neither looking like they were in a party mood either.

“Where’s your little friend, Adrien?” Natalie asked in a surprisingly concerned manner. “We gave the guards at the door her name.”

“Yes,” Gabriel crooned, tapping one finger impatiently on the head of his staff. “She should be here by now.”

Adrien practically leapt from the throne at the mention of Marinette. “I don’t want to talk about her,” He snapped in a surprising fit of anger before stalking off into the crowd.

Off to the side of the dance floor, Chloe had all but moved into the royal chambers of the castle. She slipped a gold candlestick from Sabrina before her kleptomaniac sister could pocket it.

“Would you stop that ridiculousness?” Chloe hissed under her breath. “When you steal from here, you’re stealing from me now.”

Sabrina bit her lower lip, her brow knitting together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Chloe rapped on her sister’s knuckles with the candlestick the same way their mother would when they were small and being naughty. She smirked when Sabrina yelped before gesturing to the splendor os the party around them, remembering the promise King Gabriel made her. “This is my future home, isn’t it?”

In her reverie of her supposed new home, Chloe hadn’t noticed how pale her sister became until someone behind her cleared their throat. She spun on her heel, canary yellow skirt billowing around her, and came face to face with the man she had only admired from afar.

Prince Adrien’s expression was flat as he waited with his hands clasped tightly behind him, eyeing the candlestick Chloe was still holding. She blushed flusteredly as she tried to regain some kind of composure. “Oh. Hi. I was just polishing…”

Chloe scowled at Sabrina when she started giggling at her sister’s expense. Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. This was not the introduction she was hoping for when she met her intended for the first time. She quickly set the candlestick down while the prince shifted his weight from one foot to another, as if he were debating on whether or not there was still time to run away.

“Would you… Would you like to dance?” He asked quietly, barely heard among the music and the noise of the party. Chloe’s heart nearly exploded with excitement as Sabrina dissolved into another fit of giggles.

“Are you kidding? That’s all she ever talks about.”

Chloe was too mesmerized to speak as the prince offered her his arm and led her away from her sister and out onto the dance floor.

They glided past where Chloe’s mother and Sir Tom were having a heated argument at one of the tables on the edge of where the crowd danced. The large man glared down at his wife, whose face had been stretched and contorted into an uncomfortable grimace thanks to a bad reaction to an experimental beauty treatment.

“You wanted to look younger,” Sir Tom seethed. “If you spent less time on your face and more time on your maternal duties, we’d know where Marinette was right now.”

Unbeknownst to the concerned father and his unresponsive second wife, Marinette was struggling against her bonds with every chime of the large clock situated in one of the castle towers. The closer it got to midnight, the more Marinette’s subconscious fought against the chains holding her to the tree. Her body wanted to fulfill the kings command while her head and heart wanted nothing more than for this to all be over. The tree creaked and groaned with every tug, Marinette praying that it would hold and not uproot itself and crush her.

_Then again, if I get crushed, I won’t kill Adrien._ The pessimistic voice in her head drawled depressingly. Despite its validity, Marinette still held out hope that Alya would make it back and keep her word by keeping Adrien safe until midnight passed.

“Alya, please hurry,” Marinette prayed, casting her gaze towards where the Forest of Pim’s twisted tree tops clawed at the night sky like gnarled fingers.

In the distance, there was a clap of thunder from the cloudless sky. A bright flash of green lightning struck not ten feet from Marinette’s feet, sending black dots across her vision and pressing her against the tree rather uncomfortably from the blow back. When her vision finally cleared, along with the dust, she almost couldn’t find the strength to breathe at the shock. After all that time, after all the hours of searching without any success, her godfather was standing there dusting himself off in the middle of a sunflower field.

He was still wearing the same black vest and canvas pants, melting into the night sky like a living shadow, the only thing visible being his striking green eyes that were cut to slits as he considered the field with a snarl.

“This isn’t the salad bar at Brelly’s,” Plagg growled, dusting off his pants with an unsatisfied grimace. He looked ready to take off again by whatever odd magic he had entered upon, something Marinette absolutely couldn’t allow.

“Plagg! Plagg! Plagg, please!” Marinette cried, shaking the chains that held her to the tree clanking merrily in the night air.

The fairy turned on her, his glowing cat-eyed stare making her want to curl away if she had the mobility to do so. He cocked out a hip, considering her almost playfully as he assessed the picture before him. “Hmmmmm.” he waved a hand at her as if he were thinking of something that was on the tip of his tongue. He tapped at his temple before snapping as the thought came to him. “The Constellation Andromeda.”

Marinette looked at him like he was mad, not quite following what he was talking about. “What?”

“The Constellation Andromeda,” Plagg repeated, like she were too dumb to follow his line of questioning. “The Chained Maiden. A tragic girl chained to a rock awaiting to either be eaten by the monster Cetus, or rescued by the heroic Perseus. Which begs the question,” Plagg grinned, his snarly smile glinting in the moonlight, “am I the Perseus come to rescue you or the monster come to eat you.”

Marinette shook her head, not quite getting where he was going with all of that nonsense. “No, please, Plagg. My name is Marinette, Marinette Dupain-Cheng of Frell. You gave me a gift.”

Plagg’s gaze slid over her for a moment before he shrugged, his gaze turning bored. “Right. The obedient one.”

“I am so happy to see you,” Marinette explained quickly, desperate to keep his attention so he wouldn’t leave. “I have been looking everywhere for you. I need you to take the gift back.”

Plagg’s eyes suddenly snapped up to hers, straightening up so he stood at his full height above her, blocking out the moon behind him. “Take it back?” He echoed incredulously before giving a humorless laugh. “I don’t think so, love. I don’t do refunds.”

“Please,” Marinette begged, “it’s not that Im not grateful for the gift, I am really. But because of it, I’m about to do something horrible to someone I really like.”

Her voice dropped to a quiet whisper as she thought of Adrien and how she had broken his heart. “Someone I might even love.”

The more she thought on it, the more she realized that what she told Plagg was true. She loved Adrien, which meant it was all the more important she be rid of her gift and then run back to him and explain why she had to do it. Why she had to leave him the way she did, and hopefully put everything back together the way it had been.

Plagg ignored her sentimentality entirely, letting out a pompous snort instead. “Please, everyone loves my gifts.”

Marinette let out a groan of contempt at the fairy’s lack of understanding about the situation at hand. “Plagg, I am begging you. I will do anything you ask just please, take it back.”

Plagg snarled at her, making Marinette jump as he pointed an accusatory finger at her. “You don’t like my gift? Fine. Get rid of it yourself. Don’t blame me for your problems, got it? Did I chain your butt up to this tree?”

Marinette shook her head flusteredly, unable to process everything he was throwing at her, “Well-“

“Did I?”

Marinette ducked her head sheepishly, just wanting him to stop yelling long enough for her to collect herself properly. “But you-“

“No.” Plagg snapped, cutting her off abruptly. He went back to that familiar smug smile that she had seen often in the pages of Wayzz’s book though it was a far different experience when seen up close. “And, in fact, just to prove what a gem I am… I’ll unchain you.”

Marinette’s heart squeezed in her chest uncomfortably at the thought, shaking her head like a wet dog trying to dry itself, “What? No! No!”

“Too late, my dear Andromeda.” There was a sucking feeling as the air around them dried out as Plagg formed a ball of magic in the palm of his hand like a miniature black void. He crushed it in his grip, the magic arching and sizzling off of his fingertips like living black lightning. He gave a malicious grin, as if he were just as curious to see how all of this fell apart as she was before he swiped at the chains holding Marinette to the tree. They seemed to crackle and burn at his touch, the magic sending rust across their surface before they disintegrated into dust at her feet. It was as if she had watched the erosion process sped up from decades worth of outside abuse into the span of a few seconds. Suddenly, Marinette was free, but that meant a whole different set of problems were to arise. Her body wanted to run to the castle and the knife seemed to burn into her back where it was sheathed under her belt. She threw herself at the tree, gripping it tightly as she attempted to keep herself at bay.

Plagg let out a cat-like yowl of laughter at the scene, holding out his hands like he was accepting an award from no one. “Aren’t I fabulous? Now about those clothes, my dear chained maiden, they’re absolutely unfit for a party. You should be at the castle, I hear there’s a great party being thrown right now.” His mouth seemed to water as he thought of it. “And I’m sure the food is to die for.”

“What?” Marinette screeched, gripping at the tree bark, desperate to keep herself detained in the flower field.

“Ooooooo I wonder if they have camembert!” Plagg asked giddily, resting one clawed hand on her shoulder. “You’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back.”

“No! No I can’t go! I won’t!” Marinette cried, pressing her face into the bark of the tree, closing her eyes like a child afraid of the shadows on the wall of their bedroom. If she pretended like Plagg wasn’t there, maybe he would just go away.

Plagg scoffed at her, as if he were agreeing with what she was saying, “Well, not dressed like that.”

There was another sucking feeling as Plagg conjured up another ball of magic that dripped from his hands which he then pressed into the small of Marinette’s back. It sent a chilling feeling down Marinette’s spine and for a moment she thought she was going the way of the chains that once held her, but instead of crumbling into dust, there was a flash of light that sent Marinette stumbling to the ground.

When the spots cleared from her vision, she could feel what changes had been done. She was splayed on the ground in the center of a gauzy red ballgown embroidered with swirling red paisleys, like a fairy in the center of an over-flowered rose. The top was made of red silk that was off the shoulder, exposing her freckled shoulders, and the skirt billowed out from the bodice in all directions. Her hair was pulled up and away from her face in a complicated twist, and judging from the chap of her lips Plagg had even gone as far as doing her makeup. Gold jewelry embellished with rubies dripped from her neck and ears like drops of blood. She could hear Plagg croon smugly as he admired his own work on the edge of her skirt. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

Marinette shook her head dizzily as she stumbled to her feet, unaccustomed to walking in the scrappy black heels Plagg had given her. “Okay, that hurt.”

Once she had recovered from the shock of suddenly having a Cinderella experience from her fairy godfather, Marinette’s body lurched towards the tree, quickly tearing off a thick branch and wielding it like a club at her side. Without her vigilance, the gift had taken hold of her, sending her stumbling through the sunflowers back to the castle against her better wishes, off to do the cruel deed asked of her.

Plagg grinned waving her away without a second thought, already dreaming of what he was going to eat at Brelly’s now that he was free of that obnoxious girl. “Give, give, give. That’s all I ever do.” Plagg cupped a hand to his mouth and called after her as her flaming red figure receded farther into the distance. “You’re welcome!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: The alternative title for these fanfic was going to be 'How Plagg Ruins Everything' because he really does here. 
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	19. Chapter 19

“Tell me about your sister.”

Chloe blinked in surprise at the sudden forwardness of his question. They had been dancing for quite some time and this was the first that Prince Adrien had spoken to her, let alone look her way the entire time they had been embraced. Though why she would ask about her silly sister was beyond her.

“Sabrina?” Chloe scoffed, rolling her eyes at the notion that such a fine specimen would ever consider giving her sister a second thought. “She’s an idiot.”

Adrien shook his head, evidently not amused by her comment about Sabrina. “No, Marinette.”

This made Chloe sour even more, her lip curling into a discontented snarl at the mention of her step-sister. “Oh. I don’t wanna talk about her. She’s so dreary.” The young girl leaned in close to Adrien with that same faraway fantasy smile that she had when Adrien first encountered her back in Frell. “I just want to talk about us.”

Adrien went three sheds of crimson, startled by how close Chloe had gotten to him so suddenly. “Us?” He stuttered as he tried to lean away from her. She clutched his hand in a death grip to the point it shook. “It sounds even more wonderful when you say it!”

The doors shook with a sudden cry, the great hall creaking before a girl in a sparkling red dress with familiar midnight blue hair came stumbling into the party, fashionably late and suddenly the center of attention. Adrien couldn’t push Chloe away fast enough.

“Ow!” She moaned in a baby-like cry as Adrien fought to cross the dance floor to where Marinette, his Marinette, was desperately trying to stay as far away from him as possible by clinging to one of the great hall doors. On the opposing side, King Gabriel had somehow managed to contort his typical placid expression into some sort of mildly amused look. Natalie hovered at his side like always as he managed a breathy chuckle in her direction, eyes never leaving the scene unfolding before him. “Something tells me she just couldn't stay away.”

Adrien gripped one of Marinette’s wrists, prying her away from the door and sending her sprawling into his arms. She was beautiful, no, absolutely stunning in a lovely embroidered red gown and glistening jewelry that made her glow unlike any other girl at the ball. It didn’t help that her hair framed her face in just a way that he couldn’t help but look her in the eyes, right in her beautiful bluebell eyes that sparkled under the warm lights. The same eyes that he dreamed of. The same eyes of the girl who both stole then broke his heart.

“We need to talk,” Adrien pressed in a stern voice, leaning close enough to see that she was wearing make up, just enough to highlight her features without caking it on like a lot of the women prancing around the floor behind them. Marinette gripped his upper arm in a panic, her eyes glowing in an unexpected spark of fear. “Adrien, please… Please tell me you never want to see me again.”

The question was appalling in itself, but the fact that she even assumed he could manage to tell her such a thing added insult to injury. He pursed his lips together, his brow pressed together in firm determination before giving her the ultimatum. “I will if you tell me that you don’t love me.”

Marinette’s lips parted, forming a perfect O in her shock before she shook her head, wincing as if she were in physical pain. “It’s not that.”

Adrien seemed to wilt in defeat, recalling the way her letter had almost brought him to his knees. “Then why did you write me that letter?”

When no answer came, Adrien gave her forearms a gentle squeeze, almost begging her. “Tell me how you really feel about me.”

He hadn’t meant to sound so commanding, but he was desperate to know if anything that letter meant was true. Luckily for him, Marinette almost couldn’t get the words fast enough as it spilled out of her mouth. “I love you.”

Adrien was sure the entire castle could have collapsed around him right at that moment and he wouldn’t have taken notice of it. She loved him. He was right, they really were in agreement the entire time. Then why write such a heart breaking letter? No, he couldn’t dwell on it. If he were to set his plan in motion, he would have to go ahead and do it right then.

While Adrien gathered his thoughts, Marinette was busy shaking her head and looked to be on the verge of tears. “But I’m wrong for you, Adrien. I’m wrong for the kingdom.”

Adrien let out a sharp laugh, her statement being the most preposterous thing he had ever heard come from such a strong-willed, level headed girl’s mouth. “Is that what this is about? Marinette, that’s crazy.” He slipped his hands down her arms and into her hands, giving them a firm squeeze. “Come with me.”

Without wasting any more time, Adrien led Marinette away from the crowd that was dancing and reveling in the festivities, off to have his own kind of celebration.

###

Marinette had heard of the hall of mirrors before, her mother often dreamed of seeing it herself when she was alive. What pictures they could find of it were nothing compared to the real deal that was on display all around her as Adrien led her in. Everywhere she looked, there was another version of her own scared reflection looking back at her like a fantastical illusion. Vines grew in the crevices between all of the mirrors, making it feel like they were back in the Forest of Pim, with burners filled with softly glowing candles that sent an unearthly glow across every glass surface. It was as if they had entered a world all their own, only Marinette’s ticking internal clock told her that they were still in the same realm where the same horrible curse applied. It was almost midnight and with the knife still pressed firmly into her back in its hidden sheath, she didn’t like the idea of being alone with Adrien where no one could see him. Adrien, however, seemed to take on a dreamy disposition as he let go of her hand, proceeding to walk to one of the nearest mirrors and take a long cleansing breath.

“When I was little,” Adrien said quietly, staring at himself in all of his royal regalia, but looking more like a child dressed in a costume he had been forced into, “my mother brought me in here. She told me to look in the mirror and see myself as a great leader.” His eyes dropped to the floor. “Somehow, I never could.”

Then a soft smile spread across his lips and he turned to look at her, as tender as could be. “And then you come along.”

That broke Marinette and suddenly, she couldn’t stop the flow of tears trickling down her cheeks. She swiped at them in vain, Adrien quickly crossing the room to take her face in his hands, gently wiping away her tears with his thumbs and doing a far better job than she was. “Marinette, what’s wrong?”

“I wish I could tell you,” Marinette hiccuped painfully, “I wish I could tell you everything.”

Adrien looked at her worriedly for a moment before pressing on instead, taking her hands in his with a firm hold, as if to make sure that she wouldn’t slip away from him like an illusive vapor. “These last few days have been so perfect,” He said so absolutely that Marinette knew where he was heading and as much as she loved it, the majority of her consciousness was devoted to sheer, outright panic. “Well, except for the bit where we almost got eaten by ogres. And you wrote me a letter that ripped my heart out.” Adrien gave her a small knowing smile. "And I had to dance with Chloe.”

Marinette gave a watery laugh, thankful that despite everything, Adrien still had his absurd sense of humor. The tears managed to stop for a moment to where she could manage to maintain eye contact with the boy who had whisked her away in spite of having any girl of his choosing. He rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumbs, “But none of these things matter. We’re together now. And when we’re together, it’s like magic.” He pulled her towards the small rise situated at the center of the room, his eyes never leaving hers. “I never want it to end.”

Marinette nodded slowly, in perfect agreement with him in every way and form, but that didn’t mean she could indulge herself in it. “I know, I know. And I feel the same, but…”

“That’s why I brought you here,” Adrien interrupted her, placing one hadn’t on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Adrien, please listen to me,” Marinette begged, needing, wanting to get his attention desperately, but he was determined to get whatever it was out of his system as soon as possible.

“Marinette, I know.” Marinette paused, hoping for a moment that maybe he had finally figured something out at least, but it died with what he said next. “You’re scared. I’m scared too.” Adrien took a deep breath, looking down at their feet again, gathering his courage, “This is… This is a big step.”

Then he let go of her hands and much to Marinette’s horror and heart stopping thrill, he got down on one knee, and pulled out a beautiful ring from his coat pocket. “Marinette.” He said her name like a prayer which impaled her more than any well sharpened blade could. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng of Frell, will you marry me?” 

Somewhere outside of their sanctum, the clock gave a sickening chime as midnight finally came crashing down on the young woman. She shook with the effort of keeping herself in check, her hands twitching from the want of taking out the knife hidden at the small of her back. She let out a heart breaking sob. “No. No, no no, no no.”

In her chanting to keep herself in check, she didn’t notice how Adrien seemed to wilt with every word she uttered. His arms fell to his side in defeat, eyes wide as he let out a shuttering breath, as if the very act of it had become too much to bear. “B-But I don’t understand. Why not?”

Marinette’s chest heaved as she managed to cobble together what she hoped would be a better excuse than _‘Because your father wants me to kill you and I feel like that would put a damper on the honeymoon.’_ “My politics? Your family?”

Adrien shook his head in disbelief, rising to his feet, the ring now placed in his pocket as he rested his hands gently on her neck, positioning her to where he could look her in the eye. “Those things aren’t important. What’s important is what’s in our hearts. If out love is strong, we can conquer anything.”

Marinette was sobbing now as she shakily took one of his hands in her own, holding it firmly against where it held her cheek so lovingly. “I do love you, Adrien.”

Adrien, completely unaware of what was about to happen, seemed to take her omission as more of an acceptance to his proposal than her saying her final goodbye to the love of her life. He embraced her tightly, Marinette staying stock stiff, the knife now rigid at her side and free of its sheathe. The clock chimes were echoing around them now, Marinette not even sure if Adrien could hear them or if it were simply the sound of her own mind coming apart at the seems. She had never resisted her gift for this long, who knew what damages it could be doing to her because of it? Still, she couldn’t help but try, if only to keep Adrien alive.

She thought of all the orders she had been given since she was born and of all the horrible things she had done because of her stupid gift. She obeyed Chloe’s stupid commands, being treated more like a servant than a sibling. She ruined her one and only friendship because Dame Mendeleiev didn’t like Rose’s perfume so she tossed her aside. She stole for Sabrina, she was nearly lunch for the Ogre Kim and she was on the verge of killing the one man who had ever really made her feel normal, all because she was too afraid to say no. As she stared at the knife blade gripped so firmly in her hand it made her palms bleed, she knew that somewhere along the way, she had given up fighting all together, preferring to roll over and be stepped on than know what it was like to do something entirely for herself.

_What’s inside you is stronger than any spell, my lucky ladybug._

Her mother had always known that she would have the strength to overcome any obstacle in her way. Maybe it was time Marinette did as well.

_I will not be obedient._

The clock struck one more hollow gong closer to twelve.

_I will not be obedient_

The knife was now centimeters above Adrien’s back, right above where his heart was beating strong and steady.

_I will not be obedient._

She felt his breath tickle her ear as he held her tight. “I love you too, Marinette.”

_I will not be obedient!_

The clock struck its final chord and it was as if all of Marinette’s muscles couldn't hold out any more from the strain they had just been put through. She collapsed to the ground, Adrien releasing her from his grip as the knife gave a sickening clang against the stone floor beneath them. Marinette panted, feeling as if she had just run a marathon and was finally getting to breathe freely for the first time. She gently examined her hands, cuts and all and let out a shuddering laugh. “I’m free. I can’t believe it. I’m free.”

“You tried to kill me.”

Marinette’s head snapped up in an instant to see Adrien backing away in horror, his beautiful green eyes darting between the girl who had just been in his arms and the sharp knife that had fallen from her grasp. Marinette shook her head, trying to make him understand as she shakily tried to rise. In spite of her best efforts though, she was too weak to stand after such a physically taxing endeavor and ended up stumbling forward onto the stone pedestal instead. “No, Adrien, it’s not what you think-“

Suddenly, the door to the hall of mirrors flew open and King Gabriel stood silhouetted by the hall lights. He had half a dozen knights standing behind him along with his typical advisor Natalie, who looked down at the feeble girl with disapproval.

“Guards,” He barked as he moved to stand at his son’s side. He pointed his staff at her. “Seize the girl and throw her in the dungeon for the attempted homicide of the Crown Prince.”

The guards swarmed all around Marinette, pulling her to her feet, and despite her attempts at breaking free of their hold, she couldn’t seem to get away.

“No, Adrien, please, you’ve got to understand-“

“Take her away. I want her out of my sight,” Gabriel barked, standing in front of his son as if he actually cared about what happened to him. Marinette bared her teeth at him, ready to put up a good fight when she caught sight of Adrien’s reflection in one of the mirrors, dejectedly staring at the engagement ring he had presented to her. The ring he had gotten just for her. She shook her head, pulling at the guards as they started dragging her from the room.

“Adrien, please!” She cried before the door was shut behind them. She was dragged down the hall, tripping over her heeled shoes and the folds of her dress as they disappeared down further into the bowels of the castle.

The farther down they journeyed, the harder it was for Marinette to breathe. The stone was damp and reeked of mold and rot, the walls seeming to close in all around her. She was led down a final set of stairs and pulled across straw covered floor. One knight led the way, unlocking one of the empty dungeon cells. They opened the door, making sure the grate was out of the way while the others threw her inside. Her skin stung where the straw and stone bit into her palms and arms. She sobbed, pulling her knees and skirt up around her in a kind of safety blanket. She had always dreamed of being free of her gift and all the madness that it caused. She’d never thought that the best day of her life would also happen to coincide with the worst day of it either.

“Please…There’s been a mistake,” she prayed to her knees, barely a whisper with how hoarse her voice had become, her roar now nothing but a sad mew. “I love him…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the chapter that RIPPED MY HEART OUT. Enjoy my suffering, my blood and tears are literally in this. 
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Twitter: https://twitter.com/shelbyecandraw  
> Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	20. Chapter 20

The rest of the night was a blur as Adrien was dragged from the Hall of Mirrors and escorted back to his room by a pair of guards at his father’s request. While Adrien would typically protest being treated like a child being grounded for causing trouble, that night he wanted to go back to the solace of his chambers. After everything he had just been through, he needed time to think about all had just happened.

Marinette had come to the ball, even though in her letter it sounded like she wouldn’t. Marinette declined his proposal, even though he was pretty sure they felt the same for one another. Marinette said she loved him, and then pulled a knife on him.

She had tried to kill him.

Marinette had tried to kill him.

Adrien changed out of his formal clothes, that thought a constant buzz at the back of his mind as he numbly sat overlooking his kingdom from his window nook. His forehead was pressed against the cool pane of glass, the only thing grounding him to reality, when his father finally made an appearance. He didn’t knock, naturally, and strode into his bedroom without any kind of announcement, Natalie trekking in after him, his ever present shadow.

The king examined Adrien’s disheveled appearance and the untouched food left on his dressing table before perching on the bench at the foot of Adrien’s bed. He laid his staff across his knees smartly, looking down his nose at his son with the same bored expression. “You haven’t eaten.”

“I’m not all that hungry,” Adrien growled, not bothering with the nuances of their typical dance. He didn’t have enough energy to act composed for his father at the moment.

There was a long and heavy pause, Adrien assuming that his father was calculating how best to get to the point without needing to embellish with all the typical fatherly questioning. He hadn’t even asked if his son, the one who had nearly been stabbed in the back hours before, was okay. “You need to keep up your strength, Adrien. The cook even went through the trouble of making your favorite dish.”

“Get to the point, Father.” Adrien snapped, hugging his knees closer to his chest. “We both know you’re not here because of that.”

King Gabriel paused at his son’s rude outburst, but seemed to think nothing of it for once. His grip tightened on his staff. “You realize, of course,” his father mused, “she’ll have to be put to death immediately.”

“No!” Adrien cut him off, pulling away from the window to look his father in the eye with a kind of crazed, anguish filled look. It was the same as when his mother died. Adrien had gone into complete denial. The young man’s eyes dropped to the floor before he turned to look back at the window. “I just don’t understand.”

He pressed his forehead back onto the window pane, the cool glass a comfort in his flustered state. “Maybe I should go an talk to her.”

“No,” King Gabriel said abruptly, piquing Adrien’s interest slightly. “No, I forbid you to go down there.”

Adrien scoffed at the command, not bothering to dignify it with an answer as he watched the people leave the palace grounds and head back to their ordinary lives. It was Natalie who spoke up next, stepping away from the king’s side for once to come closer to Adrien.

“Your Highness,” the king’s assistant said evenly, “your father didn’t want to frighten you, but the secret police informed us of a possible uprising. Those ogres in the forest, they were after you.”

That caught Adrien’s attention, his brow furrowing together in thought as he pulled away to look from Natalie to his father. “What are you trying to say?”

“This girl was obviously part of the scheme,” Gabriel stated gruffly. “The ogres never planned to hurt her. She was just toying with your emotions, Adrien, so she could get close to you and commit the murder herself.”

Adrien found it hard to breathe under the weight of all that was being told to him. Marinette, a murderess? Surely not, he never pegged her for someone so heartless, not when he had seen the depth of her affections for those around her. Then again, the evidence of such a fact now sat in the armory along with all the other deadly weapons after having been collected from the Hall of Mirrors where Marinette had dropped her knife. He found himself shaking his head despite the reality of it all. “I… I just don’t believe it.”

“Yes. Yes, it does seem quite fantastic,” The king concurred, standing up from his seat and straightening his robes. He gathered his staff, beckoning Natalie back to his side once more. “You let me worry about all this, Adrien. You just concentrate on tomorrow’s coronation. Go to bed.”

“Yes, Father.” Adrien droned morosely, rising from his seat by the window and flopping onto his bed just as his father and Natalie left his chambers.

Just outside the chamber doors, the king and his assistant paused in the sitting room, Gabriel pausing just outside of his own bedroom. “Finish organizing everything for tomorrow, Natalie,” Gabriel ordered, removing his crown before inspecting it with a considerate gaze. “I want everything to be confirmed and prepared for the big event.”

“Sire,” Natalie said cautiously, “you know I’ve been working with the Red Guard. Why not call them in now and take over the whole kingdom like you planned?”

Gabriel considered the idea for a moment. Yes, they could simply send in the Red Guard and enforce his foreseeable lifetime reign, but to do that would put a considerable strain on his credibility with his people. Gabriel wanted to remain king, yes, but in a way that wouldn’t provoke his subjects into a revolt if cornered by sheer brutality. The king set his crown down on a nearby end table, his hand pressed on the table top as he leaned onto it. “First, we must find a way to get rid of my son,” The king said in a tone that made it sound like he were merely discussing party plans instead of premeditated murder. “And I think I have an idea of how to do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Fallout + Evil Schemes = Bad mix for Adrien
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	21. Chapter 21

Alya swore up and down as she finally stumbled down the main road of Giantville. It was past midnight and she was missing the greatest party of the century, all because Marinette had finally lost her mind. Alya had always known that her friend was a tad odd, no one normal was ever so compliant, but sending her off to her death in the Forest of Pim would put a remarkable strain on their friendship. She’d never let her hear the end of it.

Giants thumped past her on the main road, making Alya feel more like a mouse among elephants as she rushed about trying not to get stepped on. Alya panted from exhaustion as she tried to read the building signs that felt like they were a mile above her head.

“Music Store… Music Store… Music Store…” Alya chanted under her breath as she searched in vain for her destination. Before she had left Giantville with her friends, Nino, the gorgeous musician, said that if she ever wanted to look him up again, she would find him working in the music shop on the main road. So far, her search had been fruitless from her perspective so close to the ground. She was about to give up and turn around to head back to Lamia when she heard the telltale sound of expertly played trumpet music. After spending a night listening to him play, Alya could recognize that playing among thousands of others. She dodged a few more monstrous feet, dashed under a few fruit carts before she stumbled through the doorway where she thought she heard the music coming from.

The music store was filled to the brim with different musical instruments; mandolins, harps, lutes, trumpets and every percussion instrument under the sun were organized in their various sections. Siting in the store window were bins upon bins of music transcripts and sheet music while at the back looked to be a repair station with dozens of interesting looking tools. Naturally, no one was actually working when Alya wandered in. Nino and one of his bandmates were huddled around the back desk as Nino played a chromatic scale as fast as he could. When he had finished, the other boy, a mandolin player by the name of Luka Couffaine, held up a pocket watch with a grin.

“36 seconds up and down the scale,” He laughed, giving Nino a high five. “That’s 3 seconds less than it was last time.”

“What can I say?” Nino grinned, setting his trumpet aside. “With skills like mine, improvement was to be expected.”

“Spoken like a cocky musician, Lahiffe,” Alya called from the door, still catching her breath as she watched the scene unfold. The young giant and his bandmate looked to the door curiously, but they seemed to brighten in harmony when they realized who it was intruding on their lackadaisical work ethic.

“Alya!” Nino hopped down from the counter, the shockwave nearly knocking Alya off her feet. He jogged over to the front door before crouching down to the diminutive elf. He grinned, making Alya smile in spite of her breathlessness. “You took me up on my offer then! Hope you didn’t get lost on the way here.”

“Miraculously, I didn’t despite only seeing people from the shin up,” Alya quipped, accepting Nino’s outstretched hand so that he could carry her back over to where Luka was waiting for them.

“So what brings you back to Giantville so soon?” Nino asked, setting her down on the counter. “Are you actually going to take me up on my offer on that music lesson.”

“Sadly, no,” Alya sighed, settling herself to where she sat with her legs dangling off the side of the counter. “I’m afraid I’m only here on business.”

“Sounds serious,” Luka chimed in, crossing his arms on top of the counter.

“Who knows at this point,” Alya groaned, leaning back on her hands as she closed her eyes. “Marinette’s gone off the deep end, I think. She sent me on a mad quest to round up people to bring back to the castle in order to save Adrien for some reason. She thinks he’s in danger for some reason from the king.”

Nino considered this for a moment. “Well from what I know about Marinette, she doesn’t seem like the type to go jumping to conclusions when something serious is happening. Did she tell you why?”

“Nope,” Alya quipped. “Just that I needed to go parading off into the woods to find myself a worthy cavalry to protect the soon to be king of the realm.”

“Well I’m all for a mad quest,” Nino said. “Count me in.”

“Hey, you’ve got work,” Luka said in a slightly stern voice, though his smile gave him away.

“Sorry boss, when a lady calls I must answer,” Nino returned, placing one hand over his heart and holding the other up as if he were taking an oath of some kind. Alya tried not to blush at being called a lady when there was the sound of heavy foot falls stomping up the road outside the shop.

“Nino!” Alya recognized the distinctive low tone of Ivan Ruel from the last time they had been in close contact. The giant magistrate came skidding through the door clutching what looked like a newspaper. “Have you seen this?”

“Sorry, mate, I’m not old enough to read a newspaper,” Nino quipped, Luka chuckling under his breath as Ivan came up to the counter. “You remember Alya, right?”

Ivan looked down at the elf girl, surprised to see her swinging her legs off the edge of the counter. “Of course. Ms. Cesaire.”

“Hi, Mr. Magistrate.” Alya waved. Ivan nodded at her before holding out the newspaper to Nino. “Have you seen it?”

“No, why?” Nino asked, taking it from his friend’s hands.

“It just came in, emergency printing, the man said,” Ivan explained hurriedly, resting his hands on his hips, his brow knit together in concern. “And it wasn’t good news.”

“Oh, no,” Nino muttered, his eyes glued to the headline. Alya cocked her head to the side curiously, wondering what all the fuss was about. “Nino?”

Nino looked at her and she could already see that it wasn’t good news. His lips pressed together in a thin line, like he was contemplating what to do next, before he held up the front page for Alya to get a good look at the big news from the capital city.

As expected of a newspaper made for giants, the headline was as tall as Alya was, making it all too easy to read what was spelled out in big black letters:

**WOULD BE ASSASSIN OF PRINCE ADRIEN CAPTURED: EXECUTION EMINENT**

Marinette was right, Adrien had been in danger, but Alya had been too late with getting back up forces back to Lamia in order to protect him effectively like she had wanted. She was relieved to see that it was a failed attempt at an assassination until she read the sub headline and looked at the picture on display beside it:

**MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG OF FRELL CONVICTED FOR THE CRIME OF ATTEMPTED HOMICIDE.**

There was a smiling picture of Marinette from what looked to be a school portrait, her bright smile a complete contrast to the heinous crime that she was being on trial for. Surely they had gotten the wrong person, Marinette wanted to save Adrien, she loved him for pity’s sake, surely she wasn’t responsible? According to the article, if they didn’t act quickly and prove she was innocent, Marinette would be dead by nightfall the following day, her execution being Adrien’s first act as the newly crowned king of Kyrria.

Alya’s head had gone full analytical as she thought through any number of ways this couldn’t be possible while Nino rested his finger tips on her back in a kind of reassuring gesture. “You alright, Al?”

Alya shook her head free of the thoughts that were threatening to overwhelm her and looked up at her larger friends with a determined fire in her eye. “Better than ever.”

“Sounds like your friend got herself into quite a bind. You said she wanted you to find people to protect the prince?” Luka asked, taking the newspaper from Nino to give it a good once over.

“Absolutely,” Alya retorted, trying not to let her doubts creep into her resolute tone. “Marinette would never do something so outrageous, not to Adrien.”

“You sure you still need us to come then?” Nino asked.

“You’re still willing to? Because the game may have changed,” Alya explained, looking at each of them in kind.

“Marinette was good to us,” Ivan said with a confident nod. “She brought us together with the prince so our complaints could finally be heard and treated us like people instead of laborers. It’s the least we can do.”

“What’s the game plan, Alya,” Luka asked, setting the newspaper aside.

“Well,” Alya contemplated, looking down at her toes as she gathered her thoughts, “how do you guys feel about a prison break?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An obligatory bonus chapter just in time for a JAIL BREAK. Let's go Alya, save yo girl. 
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	22. Chapter 22

The sky had just started to pale by the time Alya and her band of merry men made it to the outskirts of Lamia. Alya made sure to keep her larger than life friends hidden in the tree line just outside the main castle gates so as to not arouse any suspicion, but she could only do that for so long. If they were going to save Marinette, she’d need a way to get them all in without getting arrested before they ever saw the castle. She chewed her lip, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She was getting antsy. The more time spent planning, the less time they had before Marinette’s execution order was carried out.

“Alright.” she muttered, motioning for Nino, Luka and Ivan to come closer to her. “We just have to find a way to get past those guards at the gate.”

“We could always pick them up and throw them into the moat.” Ivan mused in an eerily calm voice as he eyed the guards positioned at the entry gate.

“I’m pretty sure the idea is to not cause mass mayhem before we save Marinette, Ivan.” Nino sighed, giving Alya an apologetic look on behalf of his friends overzealous plan.

“Yeah, I’m going to say that’s more of a Plan B than a Plan A, okay Ivan?” Alya replied as the first rooster started to hark the morning. The capital city was starting to wake up. If they were going to get in with as little people seeing them, now was the time.

That’s when Alya heard it; the quiet cry of a familiar voice from the rubbish heap that had been thrown into a pit just outside the Forest in a kind of landfill for the city. She held up a hand, hoping to hear it again more clearly.

“Alya?” It was soft, and definitely coming from the trash heap much to her dismay. She let out a soft groan before waving the giants to stay where they were. She scampered out of the Forest of Pim’s canopy and over to the waste pit where most of Lamia’s garbage had been tossed into a kind of makeshift that lined the moat landfill opposite the wall. She slid down the landfills embankment, careful to hold her breath lest the horrendous stench of rotting food and other disgusting things overwhelm her. She paused, hoping that the voice would cry out again and that she didn’t get her boots dirty in vain.

“Alya! Help!” Alya let out a gasp, her head snapping towards the sound of the cry before she started her climb over the heaps. She’s know that familiar whine anywhere.

“Wayzz!” She called. “Wayzz, yes its me! Keep shouting!”

Wayzz took up the order with vigor, crying out so that she could locate him among the rubbish. Eventually she found his book buried under some discarded banana peels and loose bits of paper. She wiped some of the grime off of the cover mirror and grinned at her companion when he swirled to life in her arms.

“Alya!” He sounded as if he were going to weep with joy. “You saved my life!”

“All in a day’s work, book worm.” Alya replied, “Im glad I found you, but why are you here? Why aren’t you with Marinette?”

“That horrible assistant of King Gabriel found me in the library after Marinette left and threw me out with the afternoon’s trash!” Alya felt a slight shiver run down the spine of the large book. “I’ve never felt so disgusting in my life. But thats beside the point now, we need to help Marinette, I think she’s in trouble. Something to do with Gabriel.”

“Yeah, I know. She’s going to be executed if we don’t do something fast, but before that we need to get you out of this trash heap. The smells starting to burn my sinuses.”

Wayzz agreed and together they found their way out of the landfill and back into the tree line without being seen by the guards. Alya tiptoed her way through the undergrowth until she found her way back to her larger than life companions.

“Whoa, Al’s, I hate to break it to you but you smell awful.” Nino quipped, covering his nose along with Luka and Ivan as she situated herself between all three of them. “Why’d you go and do a thing like that? I’m pretty sure the landfill isn’t supposed to be something you get stuff out of.”

“That’s where you’re wrong Lahiffe.” Alya replied, holding Wayzz out in her arms, “Sometimes the rubbish heap holds very important treasures.”

“Oh Alya, you do care.” Wayzz mused, sending the three giants reeling backwards, eyes wide as they stared at the talking head on the books cover.

“Whoa, that book just-“

“Yes, yes, I know, talking book. More on that later, we have more important things to deal with right now.” Alya took a deep breath, gripping the front cover of the book, “Wayzz, show me Marinette.”

Alya ignored the loud gasp of her companions as a picture of Marinette appeared on the open page. She was disheveled and leaned up against the cell bars with dirt and grime on her face while the hem of her formally beautiful red dress was torn and off-colored now. Her eyes were closed like she was sleeping and Alya could tell by how swollen they were that the poor girl had been crying. Alya was struck not only by how sorry she felt for her friend but also by the overwhelming urge to kick King Gabriel in the face, even more so than she had before.

“I cant believe Gabriel’s done this.” Alya growled, closing Wayzz and sliding him under her arm before turning on her comrades. “We’ve gotta go in there and stop him before he hurts Adrien or Marinette. It’ll take courage, bravery-“

Alya would never know where the rest of that heroic thought had been leading because that was the moment when three familiar ogre faces appeared from the undergrowth. Alya let out a jarring scream that caught Ivan, Nino and Luka off guard long enough for Kim and his cronies to slip in close to the elf.

Kim considered Alya thoughtfully, as if he were looking at a particularly interesting puzzle piece that refused to fit anywhere. They were all caught at a stand still, the giants afraid of provoking the ogres to attack and with Alya so close to one, they didn’t want to take their chances.

“I was gonna ask you how you’d like to be eaten,” Kim said in a measured tone before a wicked grin cut across his face, hoisting his large club onto one shoulder. “But if it’s Gabriel you’re after, count us in.”

He held out a scarred and calloused hand in Alya’s direction, all eyes fixated on the gesture intensely. Alya didn’t take long to weigh the odds, grasping the larger hand with her own small one and giving it a firm shake. “Welcome aboard then.”

“Okay, now how are we going to get in?” Nino asked, his eyes still warily glancing in the ogres direction, “We’ve just increased our head count by three which makes our entry plan a little bit harder than we thought.”

“You want to get in to the city right?” The girl ogre, Alix Alya remembered, asked.

“Yes, but sneaking in three giants and three ogres is proving to be a little difficult when it comes to the planning department.” Alya admitted, hugging Wayzz close to her as she ran though all the possible scenarios.

“Please, that’s easy.” Alix scoffed, “We’ve been in there more times than we can count.”

“Really?” Ivan asked, “How’s that?”

Alix nudged the smaller male ogre, Max, in the side with a knowing smile. “Show ‘em.”

Max looked at Kim who nodded his approval before fishing out what looked like a rolled up piece of paper. He unrolled it and held up what turned out to be a complex map of Lamia.

“What is that?” Luka asked as he craned down to get a better look. “It’s no map I’ve ever seen before.”

“I wouldn’t expect you too.” Kim scoffed, “We ogres are far more resourceful that you give us credit for.”

“Okay but that doesn’t answer the question.” Alya barked, “What is it of?”

The ogres seemed to smile at one another in perfect sync. Kim leaned down to Alya’s height level with a wicked gleam in his eye and told her a plan that would make her whole body tremble.

“Ever heard of the public sewage system?”

###

Alya was sure that she would never be able to get herself clean. The smell would be burned into her nose for the rest of her life and was surprised that they managed to sneak to the inner courtyard of the castle without having the guards smell them coming. Still, Alya managed to convince Nino, Luka and Ivan to stay hidden out near the stables while she, Kim, Max and Alix snuck inside to break Marinette out, with some help of Wayzz for the occasional guard spotting. The giants didn’t seem comfortable leaving their diminutive friends with such bloodthirsty creatures, but Alya paid them no mind. She had bigger fish to fry.

It turned out that breaking into the castle was a lot easier with three ogres tagging along than Alya had anticipated. Any guard they happened to run into that Wayzz couldnt catch quickly enough, Kim or one of his friends would simply bonk them on the head with a well placed punch and it was off to dreamland. She only hoped that no one else would find them and try to find the culprit. Still, they made it down to the dungeon without hearing any telltale warning signs that they were on to.

Eventually they found their way down into the bowels of the castle and into a corridor that they assumed led to the dungeon.

“Okay.” Alya whispered at the end of the hallway opposite the dungeon entrance. “I’ll distract them, you guys take care of the guards like always, got it?”

The three ogres grinned and nodded enthusiastically. Alya was afraid they were taking a little too much pleasure in inflicting so much damage, but right then it was playing to her advantage so she tried not to think about it too hard. She gulped, taking Wayzz close to her chest and put on the most determined face she could manage before she strolled up to the dungeon door and gave it a firm rap.

The guard that peered through the Judas hole looked down at her sternly, taking no notice of her friends that flanked either side of the door. “What you want, small fry?” He asked gruffly and Alya pouted up at him, one hand on her hip while the other gripped Wayzz firmly.

“Alya Cesaire, Lamia Gazette.” She quipped, her heart fluttering at the title she had only given herself in her dreams of being a real journalist. “I’m here to interview Ms. Dupain-Cheng on her unjust imprisonment.”

There was a slight pause as the guard digested the information before he let out a slurred, “What?”

“I’m a journalist, numbskull.” Alya retorted, “Let me in or I’ll have your head all over the front page before you can get proper media assistance with accusations of denying free speech.”

The mention of someone having his head must have shook the guard from his stupor. There was the satisfying click of a door lock and the door swung open, the guard stepping out looking rather nervous, “Listen miss, there’s no need for this to all go in the Gazette right? My mum reads that.”

“Hmmmmmm,” she mused. “Let me think about that.”

She waved to Kim on her left and in one swift motion, the guard crumpled under the sheer force of a heavy club swung at his metal helmet. Alix and Max quickly moved to restrain his arms while Kim licked his lips and pulled out what Alya thought was salt. Alya quickly stepped up to him and smacked his hand with Wayzz, getting a sharp yelp from both of them. “Oi! What are you doing?”

Kim rubbed his hand pouting and looking at the unconscious guard. “Can we at least take him to go?”

“Stop that, we have more important things to do.” Alya barked.

From inside the dungeon came a quiet yet frantic voice, “Alya?”

“Marinette?” Alya called in response, taking the salt from Kim and the keys from the guard before darting into the dungeon. She picked her way over the hay towards the dungeon cell at the end of the block. She nearly wept with joy when she saw the familiar red dressed visage from Wayzz’s pages. “Marinette!”

“Alya!” Marinette cried, reaching through the grate to grabs Alya’s free hand in a tight grip. “I can’t believe it’s you!”

“Hold on girl, there will be time for reunions in a moment but first-“ she fumbled with the keys, trying out every one on the key ring until she finally heard the satisfying click of the lock turning. The grated door swung open easily and Marinette embraced Alya and Wayzz in an overjoyed hug.

“Oh Alya, I’m so glad you came!”

“Marinette!”

“Oh Wayzz! You’re safe too!” Marinette cried, pulling the book from Alya’s hands to get a better look at him. “I’m so sorry I left you in the library, I never thought-“

“It’s okay Marinette, all that matters is that you’re okay!” The book beamed, “You are okay right?”

“I’m fine now but Adrien might not be.” The young maiden said, her tone turning serious at the mention of the prince. She had a firm grasp on the cover, “Wayzz, show me Gabriel.”

She pulled open the book to show a secluded room somewhere in the castle above. On a central dais, Adrien’s crown sat on a velvet pillow glimmering in the window lights. King Gabriel melted from the shadows wearing gloves and holding a mysterious bottle in one hand. He uncorked it, careful not to get any on his skin, before picking up the crown and pouring the bottles contents onto the rim of the crown.

“That’s Adriens crown.” Alya said seriously as Gabriel returned the crown to its pillow and left the room.

“He’s poisoned it, I’m sure of it.” Marinette said resolutely before closing Wayzz and handing him back to Alya, “We gotta go. But first,” She slipped off her heels and pulled off the stifling petticoats and layers beneath her dress, throwing them into the dungeon cell with a resolute huff. “Now that I can actually move without tripping,” she smiled determinedly at her small friend. “We can go.”

She marched out the dungeon block, not bothering to pause so that Alya could explain the three ogres eyeing the unconscious guard hungrily. She motioned for them to follow after her, and Alya couldn’t help but grin despite whatever mess she was about to get them into. She wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, but Alya was starting to like the new confident Marinette.

“Come on guys, we have a party to crash.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *quietly chants* Jail Break Jail Break Jail Break JAIL BREAK. Now to crash one bummer of a party. 
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
> Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shelbyecandraw  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/shelbyecandraw  
> Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shelbyecandraw/  
> Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/shelbyecandraw  
> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	23. Chapter 23

Purple banners with the Agreste family crest fluttered above the heads of the multiple noblemen and women gathered in the Castle Hall where they had gathered to witness a once in a lifetime event: the crowning of a king.

From the left wing of the dais where the thrones sat, the current king, Gabriel, appeared at the sound of blaring trumpets followed by his assistant, Natalie. The crowd curtsied in harmony, those gathered bowing and straightening like a wave out at sea as the king took his place before them.

“People of Kyrria,” he proclaimed calmly, his voice echoing in the cavernous space, “today is a very special day for our kingdom. For today, you are here to witness the crowning of a king.”

He waved his hand and from the right side of the dais, four priests filed in followed by Adrien in all of his refinery, a long cloak wrapped around his shoulders and his head dipped low like a penitent. Despite the fervent clapping and joy coming from the crowd, he did not smile, he did not greet them. He merely walked over to stand before his father before turning to look at those who came from the far reaches of the kingdom to witness such a momentous occasion. He kept his eyes averted from where his fan club screeched and waved banners bearing his likeness and his name.

While the high priest started to go through the vows and all of the minutia of transferring the title, Marinette’s plan was already being set in motion just outside the grand halls doors. She and her friends were hidden behind one of the doors of a side hallway, peering cautiously out at the guards who flanked the doors.

“You know what to do?” Marinette said, looking at Kim and his friends who were eagerly waiting behind her along with their giant friends and Alya.

“Do you even need to ask?” Kim replied, sounding slightly offended at her accusation of them not being willing to get even mild revenge on any associates of the king, including his watchdogs. Marinette held up her hands in surrender, stepping away from the doors to let Kim, Alix and Max through.

It took all of three seconds for the ogres to spring from their hiding place and overwhelm the armored guards with a few well placed hits to their metal helmets from their heavy clubs. The men crumpled to the floor, the ogres taking their place as the watchmen with gleeful grins in Marinette’s direction.

Marinette gave them the thumbs up, she and her friends slipping into the entry hall quietly. She looked up at Ivan. “We clear on the plan?”

“Of course, Marinette,” Ivan replied, standing alongside the door with Luka and Nino. “You go save the prince, we’ll handle whatever happens out here.”

Marinette rested a hand with a look of gratitude on the giant’s ankle. “Thank you, Ivan, I will.”

She grinned at Nino who gave her the thumbs up and Luka who wished her luck before turning to the grand hall doors. She took a deep breath before pressing her hands onto the heavy oak surface and pushing with all her might.

Marinette already knew from the loud creak that the door hinges meant that she had thoroughly interrupted the proceedings to some degree. When she finally took stock of the room, every eye was on her, including Adrien’s from where he was kneeled on the far side of the hall, the poisoned crown hovering inches above his golden hair. She wasn’t sure who was more surprised, Marinette or Adrien. Marinette’s throat went dry at the sight of him, but she pushed through it, her gaze hardening as she looked at King Gabriel. “Drop that crown!”

Adrien leapt to his feet at the same time his father did, King Gabriel practically snarling as he thrust his staff towards her. “Seize them!”

The noblemen shrieked with fright as the knights gathered in the hall sprang to action, all of them aimed at Marinette where she stood at the head of her friends. She stumbled backwards, narrowly avoiding a sword swung for her head only for it to be blocked by Kim’s club. The ogre parried the sword easily, pulling it from the knight’s grasp before swinging for his head. The knight slammed heavily into the ground with a clang only to be replaced by a duplicate coming up from behind. Kim, Alix and Max went to work effectively against the king’s men, the might of humanity nothing before the strength of larger than life ogres and their need for revenge.

Those not fighting in the melee at the front of the hall where determined to keep the king and his son, who was desperately craning to get a better look at the rebellion members, out of harm’s way. At the same time, Marinette was hopelessly trying to navigate the crowd to get to Adrien. “Adrien!” She called over the chaos, desperate to get his attention.

Gabriel motioned at Natalie, who quickly broke the glass on an emergency button positioned behind the throne. Immediately, men in bright red armor descended on ropes from their hiding places in the rafters of the grand hall, poised for action.

“Kill them. And anyone who gets in your way,” Gabriel said coldly. The Red Guard nodded silently before turning on their heels and expertly descending into the crowd, leaping and dodging with the grace of the trained acrobats they were. Marinette screamed as they came in close, two of them poised for a fight as she stood frozen like a deer caught in the crosshairs of a hunter’s crossbow.

“Oh, for heavens sake,” Adrien cursed from his place, discarding his heavy cloak and reaching for the swords of two of the knights guarding him. He held them dual handed, leaping over the armored guard to run after Marinette. He ignored his father’s protest as he dodged various sword blades and swinging clubs until he pushed the two members of the Red Guard to stand alongside Marinette, pushing one of his swords into her unarmed hand. His teeth were grit, caught between the anguish and joy of seeing her again.

“I can’t believe Im saving you after you tried to kill me,” He growled, his eyes trained on the Red Guard instead of on her frantic gaze.

“I didn’t try to kill you,” Marinette replied as another member of the Red Guard sprang from the crowd brandishing a bo staff in her direction. Adrien instinctively pushed Marinette behind him, pointing his sword at the knight with a snarl. “You get away from her!”

The knight didn’t hesitate to lurch at the couple, Adrien parrying the bo staff while Marinette blocked the blade of another guard from behind. She held him at bay while Adrien disarmed the guard, taking his staff from him and using it to slam Marinette’s opponent to the ground with a well placed swing to the neck.

###

Off to the side, Alya was being pushed and jostled between the masses of noblemen and the knights that were chasing after her. She didn’t have anything to defend herself with besides the heavy weight of Wayzz that was cradled in her arms. Instinctively, she took her friend and swung him with all the might she had at the knight who was effectively knocked to the ground. She grinned at Wayzz’s maniacally. “I guess the pen really is mightier than the sword. Or, well, in this case, the book.”

“Please never do that again,” Wayzz whimpered.

During her reverie, Alya was suddenly pulled backwards by two other knights who were desperately trying to wrestle Wayzz from her grasp in an attempt to disarm her of her only weapon. Alya let out a cry. “Help! Elf in danger!”

Wayzz, while being jostled by the knights trying to wrench him from Alya’s fervent grasp on him, managed to catch sight of familiar flaming red hair and long red ribbons that he so loved. Wayzz let out a gasp before howling his own helpless cry. “Tikki!”

The house fairy, who was in attendance with Sir Tom and his family, turned on her heel with bright blue eyes. She let out a gasp at the sight of her love being abused while Wayzz called out again. “Help!”

Tikki didn’t hesitate to hold up her hands towards him, her magic bubbling under the surface of her skin in an overwhelming sensation. She hadn’t tried to channel her magic beyond housework in years and that lack of practice was starting to show, but she still needed to try. “Fairies in kingdoms across the land, please help me turn Wayzz back into a man!”

There was a flash of bright pink light, but when the spots faded from her vision, Tikki let out an exasperated groan to see that Wayzz was not a man like she had hoped, but a fully ripened pumpkin. “Are you kidding me?”

Alya yelped and let the pumpkin fall to the ground, both she and the knights gripping her arms just as surprised as Tikki was. In their hesitation though, Tikki managed to recover and wave her hands to cast the spell again. There was another bright flash of pink light, this time leaving not a pumpkin, but the handsome man she had fallen for all those years ago before the madness of her misplaced spell took place. Wayzz seemed to take it in for a moment, examining his hands, taking in the fact that he now had a body that was entirely his own again. He smiled at Tikki, wanting nothing more than to embrace her, when Alya’s own shocked exclamation reminded him of where he was and what needed to be done. He’d have time to thank her later.

Wayzz nodded at Tikki whose eyes had filled with tears, before turning and effectively wrenching Alya free of the knight’s grasp and knocking the knights to the ground.

###

From where they defended one another, Adrien asked the question that made Marinette’s heart sink. “So that dagger you were about to plunge in my back was an early wedding present?”

“That wasn’t me!” Marinette cried, just as she blocked another blow from a guard before pushing him away with a well placed kick to his breast plate. She panted heavily as she watched Adrien knock another to the ground with his bo staff. “Excuse me?”

“Okay, so, maybe I did try to kill you, but that wasn’t me!”

Adrien knocked another guard away before his shoulders drooped, looking at her with a shake of his head as he let out an exasperated sigh. “What?”

Marinette groaned, clearly not getting her point across nearly as well as she hoped she would. She pressed the heel of her palm into her forehead in an attempt to prevent the headache she knew she’d have after all this was sorted out. “Maybe it was me, but it wasn’t my fault.”

Then she explained it, all of it, from the moment Plagg ruined her life until the moment she realized that Gabriel wanted to do away with his only son. She had taken to motioning with her hands tiredly, desperate to get all the information off of her chest as soon as possible. “Then your father found out about the curse and ordered me to kill you. So I had to break up with you,” she paused to look him in the eye, heat rushing to her cheeks, “even though I’m pretty sure that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

She watched Adrien’s cheeks turn a deep shade of pink before remembering another crucial fact. “Also that crown that was about to go on your head is poisoned.”

Adrien looked shocked for only a moment before he gripped his staff firmly. “Duck.”

Marinette did as she was told, watching in awe as the prince spun the staff expertly in one hand, leaning back as the staff hit each of the four guards surrounding them in turn and knocking them to the ground. He straightened, stamping the staff firmly back onto the ground at his side while Marinette stood back up wide-eyed. “Whoa.”

Adrien stared Marinette down seriously, trying to get a grip on everything Marinette had just thrown at him. “My father’s trying to kill me?”

Marinette paused, reaching out to gently squeeze Adrien’s upper arm with a soft and sorrowful gaze. “Yes, and Adrien there’s one more thing. He killed Nooroo.”

Adrien’s eyes widened and all the air seemed to leave him, shaking his head free of the information that was shaking his world. “No. No, no, no, that can’t be true.”

From his place behind the knights, King Gabriel spoke up, his voice dripping with venom. “Well, of course it’s not true. Who are you going to believe? This lying little twit, or the man who raised you, Adrien?”

Adrien stared him down, still trying to process this, not noticing the way that Natalie was sneaking up behind Adrien with a long and thin bladed knife. Luckily, Marinette was anchored in reality when Natalie exposed the knife fully from where she was hidden in the crowd just behind the prince. As she tried to trust it into Adrien’s kidney, Marinette expertly pushed him aside, parrying the knife with a well placed hit to her hand with the flat of the blade Marinette had been holding. Natalie let out a sharp cry, gripping her hand and dropping the knife in surprise as Marinette kicked her legs out from under her. She stumbled, sprawled out on the red carpeting with a murderous gaze as the crowd went silent. The first sign of movement came from the Adrien Fan Club.

“She tried to kill Adrien!” Lila screeched, pointing at Natalie with as much hatred as she could muster. “Get her!”

The young women didn’t need any more provocation than that, howling and caterwauling like rabid dogs on the scent of a fox as they chased Natalie out of the hall, their cries echoing long after they disappeared from sight.

Adrien turned on his father with his teeth clenched as he gestured to the open grand hall doors. “Well, that answers that question. Everyone knows Natalie doesn’t act unless it’s on an order from you.”

Gabriel’s face contorted into an unholy grimace as his eyes rested on Marinette. “You vile little girl. I should have disposed of you when I had the chance.”

Adrien spread his arms wide, gesturing to the fearful crowd that cowered on the outskirts of the hall. “You almost destroyed this kingdom! You killed my friend, your most loyal servant and vassal, all because he had the courage to stand up to your tyranny. How could you?”

Gabriel turned on his son with a contemptuous throaty laugh, a grating sound like sandpaper. “How could I?” He echoed. “I wanted something, he was in my way, I got rid of him. Simple as that.”

“You murdered him in cold blood,” Marinette said in disbelief, “all because you couldn’t bear not being king.”

“Because I am the only one worthy of being king,” Gabriel said in a matter-of-fact tone. He gestured to his son. “You think that he would be better than I? He’s nothing but a child, a lovestruck teenager who can’t see past some silly infatuation.”

“And yet this lovestruck teenager is still twice, no, ten times the man you shall ever be, You Highness,” Marinette spat back, venom leaking into her tone as she referred to his title. She slipped her hand into Adrien’s, giving it a firm squeeze. “He’s more worthy than you ever will be, or ever were.”

“He is not fit to rule this kingdom, nor is he fit to wear this crown,” Gabriel seethed, turning on where the poisoned crown was perched on it’s velvet pillow, “This crown is mine and mine alone.”

Adrien shook his head in horror as those gathered watched their king pick up the crown and place is firmly on his own head. “This kingdom is -“

There was a moment of shock as the sudden realization washed over Gabriel's features. He paled, letting out a short gasp before he collapsed on the dais as the poison took hold. The crowd let out a mortified gasp as his body hit the ground with a sickening thud, the priests who were off to the side suddenly rushing to the king’s side.

Adrien and Marinette stood by in shock, watching as a couple of knights rushed the unconscious monarch out of the hall via the side staircase. Adrien was the first to snap out of his reverie, his voice cracking when he finally spoke. “Is he dead?” He was shocked to find that his voice could work at all with how constricted his breathing felt as he fought to stay calm. His father had lied to him, lied to all of them, and suddenly he could be dead. The only thing that kept him from losing it entirely, whether from the frustration of being betrayed, the grief from knowing Nooroo was killed by the man he had served so loyally, or from the shock of having watched his father pitch forward after succumbing to the poison, was Marinette’s hand squeezing his own. She pressed her face into his shoulder, too shocked to watch the scene unfold as one of the knights handed a priest a small mirror that had been hanging on the far right wall.

One of the priests expertly took the mirror and held it close to King Gabriel’s mouth, Adrien and the rest of the kingdom watching with bated breath. When a small puff of hot air appeared on the mirror’s reflective surface, Adrien saw the tension in the priest’s shoulders suddenly release. The old clergyman looked at Adrien with a kind of fervent patience, his voice firm but low. “He’s alive sire, but we must get him to the hospital wing quickly before the poison truly takes hold.”

Adrien gave a curt nod, the knot in his chest loosening some at the idea that his father wasn’t dead yet, “Go.”

The clergyman nodded, waving a couple of the knights over to help lift the king from the floor and whisk him away up the stairs that Adrien had descended when the ceremony began. Adrien watched them leave while his jaw clenched and unclenched, mulling over what had just occurred. He took in a shaky breath, realizing that if his father wasn’t dead, then he would have to answer for his crimes and Adrien, being the reigning monarch now, would have to be his judge. His mind was abuzz with all of the nuances of political reign that he would have to deal with now when Marinette’s hand gently squeezed his. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself together. He had to deal with the matter at hand before dealing with the mess his father had made of their kingdom.

Adrien blinked for a moment, coming out of his daze long enough to look at Marinette with a kind of reverent awe. He squeezed her hand, letting out a breathy chuckle. “You saved my life.”

Marinette echoed his involuntary chuckle, moving to stand in front of him and closing the distance between them. She smiled at him coyly, holding both of his hands in hers. “Then we’re even.”

Adrien softened at her mischievous tone, smiling down at her. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“Well, in your defense, I would have doubted me too,” Marinette admitted, eyes drifting down to the ground. “I wouldn’t have believed me either.”

“But you never gave me any reason to doubt you. All you ever did was stand up for what was right and do some good for this kingdom and its people and somehow, I had the audacity to think someone so good could do something so wrong.” Adrien told her, cupping her chin with one of his hands to bring her gaze back to him. “I am so sorry, Marinette. Can you ever forgive me?”

Marinette smiled slightly, warming at his touch. “I think I can manage that.”

Adrien grinned and Marinette felt her heart flutter sporadically in her chest. Without hesitation, started to lean in towards him. The young couple’s noses had barely brushed one another when a screeching voice pulled them apart.

“Ridiculous! Marinette!” Chloe was dressed in her brightest yellow dress, covered in fur and paraphernalia, complete with her own crown tucked expertly into her hair. Her hands were clenched tightly at her side and to Marinette’s surprise, wore Lady Sabine’s necklace, the one she had taken from Marinette when everything started to fall apart. She rushed up to the dais, her ever present shadow, Sabrina, trailing along after her. “Marinette, stop kissing him!”

The blonde took on a wicked grin, thinking she had the upper hand on the matter as she leaned in close to her step-sister and her idol. “You are never to kiss him again.”

She had a victorious air about her, still under the impression that Marinette would simply bow to her whim like she had since they met. Much to her horror, Marinette looked at Adrien with a tired sigh, unwrapping her arms from around his neck. “One moment.”

“Sure.”

Marinette pulled away reluctantly from the man she had fought so tirelessly to save, turning on her step-sister with a hardened scowl. She stepped closer to them, leaning down so that she could look her wicked sisters in the eye from where she was elevated above them before smirking. “Watch me.”

She reached out and yanked her mother’s necklace from her long time tormentors throat, watching with satisfaction as the two girls fled with horror from her presence and out the grand hall’s doors, their mother following a few moments later. Marinette smiled victoriously, turning back towards where Adrien watched her amusedly before gently looping her arms back around his neck. Adrien lovingly placed one hand on Marinette’s waist, using the other hand to cradle her neck.

“Marry me?” He asked, surprising Marinette with his willingness to still take her as his bride, despite having already forgiven her for her former madness. Still, she pressed her lips together in playful thought, as if she needed time to consider it, before she smiled thoughtfully at him, pressing her forehead against his. “Now that I’ll do.”

Adrien smiled before closing what small distance there was left between them, the shocked gasps of the crowd drowned out by the fireworks going off in Marinette’s head and heart. Finally, she was in the arms of the man she loved so completely, and could finally know what freedom felt like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kick butt, take names and finally, FINALLY, get to kiss your boo cause now the spells broken so no one can stop you. 
> 
> We only have two more Chapters people! This Thursday is the final chapter, then next Tuesday is the epilogue then we file this under completed! Thanks for coming on this wild ride with me and I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have!
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	24. Chapter 24

The following month was a whirlwind of movement and being pulled back and forth from one crazed caterer to the next. Marinette was allowed to live in the castle in her own separate wing along with her father and Tikki, Dame Mendeleive having quit them not long after the scene at the coronation along with Sabrina and Chloe. Marinette had been worried that her father would fall apart much in the same way he had when her mother died but in the ensuing weeks, Sir Tom didn’t seem to notice the absence of his second wife. Not when his bakery had been tasked with making the cake for a royal wedding.

Adrien seemed to be pulled in every direction, whether it was meetings with his cabinet to discuss the disbanding of all segregating laws and regifting land back to their former owners, or having to listen to crazed wedding planners bow and scrape at the new kings feet. Still, he couldn’t seem to wipe the giddy smile off of his face whenever Marinette saw him.

“I’m making a change Marinette.” He would tell her whenever they could get a moment alone together after dinner or when he was hiding from his advisors. “For the first time in my life, I’m actually using this stupid title for something good.”

Then he’d take the hand that was frequently holding hers and press a gentle kiss into her knuckles, never taking his eyes off of hers. “And it’s all thanks to you Princess.”

Other times, whenever either one of both of them had a spare minute, they would go and sit with Adrien’s father in the hospital wing. On the day of the coronation, the priests and physicians attending managed to get the poisoned crown off of the king’s head soon enough to save his life, but not his mind. He had gone mute, needing assistance for even the most basic things, but Adrien couldn't allow him to just waste away without anyone giving him a second thought. They would often sit, Marientte merely holding her fiancée’s hand while Adrien told him everything about his day, how the government was running, the plans for the wedding, even the silly thing the cook said about the chambermaids fall up the stairs. For the most part, Gabriel would merely stare off into the distance, not really responding, but in rare moments, he would manage a soft smile which was all Adrien really needed.

They passed the time much in the same way, Marinette taking the time to answer a lot of the questions the wedding planners would scream at her whenever Adrien was occupied. Then, finally, the day had arrived. The invitations had been sent, the menu was set, now the only thing left was to do the deed.

“You know, if you weren’t my friend I might really start to hate you.”

Marinette laughed at Alya’s over reaction as she mused in Marinette’s quarters. She had been asked, along with Rose, to be one of Marinette’s bridesmaids and had insisted on keeping watch over the blushing bride ‘in case she got any ideas of leaving.’

“Why would you hate me?” Marinette laughed, trying not to move as one of the chambermaids fiddled with her hair.

“Because you’re the luckiest person alive and that means you get all the good stuff.” Alya pouted, sitting cross-legged on Marinette’s bed. “Not only did you get to meet the prince that everyone was gaga over, you got him to fall for you and now he’s gonna marry you!”

“Jealous, Alya?” Marinette asked mischievously.

“Nope, just questioning how the world could be so unfair.” Marinette laughed at her friends skewed logic, more at what they implied than her pettiness. Lucky. A few month ago, she would have said she was anything but. Odd how things seemed to change so suddenly.

“My lady,” one of the servant girls curtsied at the doorway, “There’s someone here to see you.”

“I better go check, it might be Rose.” Marinette told Alya, her heart skipping giddily at the thought of seeing her old friend again. She shooed away the other chambermaids who had been fiddling with her skirt hem, gathering the skirt of her wedding dress in her hands before quickly carrying herself out the door and into the parlor.

“Rose?” She asked, confused as to not seeing her blonde headed friend anywhere in the sitting room of her chambers.

“Andromeda.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold at the smooth sound of his voice, the one she had hunted for so long only to have him evade her grasp until the very end. She spun, nearly tripping over herself to look at the balcony, to come face to face with Plagg, the nightmare fairy. She had already told Adrien everything about Plagg, what he had done, and he had promised that she wouldn’t have to see him again but clearly, standard rules of access to the royal castle didn’t apply to fairies with magic.

Plagg was dressed for a wedding, discarding his usual ratty clothes for the elegant robes of a nobleman, complete with golden rings and even shoes for once. He studied his own long claw like nails, lost in thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No,” he looked at her with lazy green-eyed stare, like a cat watching a mouse with half a mind to kill it. “Not Andromeda. Andromeda needed someone to save her from her monster. You freed yourself.”

“No thanks to you.” Marinette mused, crossing her arms over her chest as she considered him. “What do you want Plagg.”

“The blood of your first born child.”

“Wrong answer, try again.”

“Fine.” Plagg sighed, clearly not appreciating the lack of play in their banter. He pushed off of the door frame. “I want my thank you.”

“Excuse me?” Marinette asked incredulously, hardly believing what he was saying.

“I want my thank you.” Plagg stated again in a matter of fact tone. He gestured to the ornate decor, golden filigree and lavish lifestyle Marinette had suddenly found herself thrust into. “Without my gift, you never would have made it here.”

Marinette felt her mouth drop and was overwhelmed by the need to throw the nearest object at the fairy’s smug face. After all the things he had done to her, after all the things _she_ had done at the behest of the twisted gift he had given her, he expected her to thank him? His outright audacity made Marinette want to scream.

But as she considered which glass decanters to throw at the fairy’s face, she was reminded of what Alya had said, how she was so lucky. Alya didn’t know completely what Marinette had gone through, only that she had an outrageous gift given to her as a baby. She didn’t know how hard it had been to achieve normalcy, let alone the happy ever after like she was now living. The more Marinette thought on it, she supposed her mother had been right on one thing, maybe Marientte had been lucky all along, and, for the most part, it had been because of her ridiculous gift. Without it, she never would have left Frell, never would have met Adrien and never would have found out just how capable she was. But none of that meant that Plagg was going to get all of the credit.

“Thank you Plagg for the gift.” Marinette said in a cordial tone.

“You’re welcome.” Plagg crooned, obviously enjoying the praise of his work far too much.

“But not for the experiences it gave me.” Marinette continued, holding her own as the fairy looked at her with a mildly confused yet offended expression. There was a moment of silence as Plagg mulled over what she had said before he let out a sharp, “What.”

“I will thank you for the gift that you gave me as a child, but I will thank you for nothing else.” Marinette stated firmly. She gestured to the sitting room and all of its amenities the same way that he had previously, “None of this is because of what you did for me. Any saner person who lived under the constant scrutiny and oppression of the gift that you gave me would have quitted this world long ago, and while that thought crossed my mind only when life was at its darkness, I still persevered. It was my choice to chase you, it was my will power that broke the iron like grip that your magic held over me and so it is by my hand that my fate has been decided, not yours.”

Mariette watched as Plagg gaped at her forwardness, merely clasping her hands in front of her demurely as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, “Thank you for the gift Plagg. It shaped me in more ways than you will ever know but in the end, it did not define me.”

Plagg’s eyes narrowed for a moment like he was preparing a spell to smite her where she stood, but after a moment the expression faded to one of a mild respect, taking in the girl before him and what she had said to him. He stood to his full height, hands clasped behind his back, “Fine. I’ll take what I can get and I still say that the gift I gave you was some of the best work I ever gave you.”

There was a sharp knock at her door followed by her fathers cheerful tone asking if she was ready, it was almost time to start the ceremony. Marinette asked for a few more moments and Plagg looked from her to the door, his expression unreadable.

“It’s time to give away the bride.” He bent low, as if he almost respected her title, “Crown Princess Marinette, I wish you the best of luck in your wedding to King Agreste.”

When he looked at her again though, she tried to keep herself from flinching at his wicked grin and cunning glow of his green eyes. “As well as to the children you have. I’m sure we’ll be meeting again.”

There was the feeling of air being vacuumed from the room and a dark puff of smoke before Marinette was once again alone in her sitting room. She tried not to think on Plagg’s cryptic farewell. The happiest day of her life was already underway and she intended to enjoy every moment of it possible.

###

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The priest said as the church congregation erupted into joyous clapping, all of them leaping to their feet as their young king took his wife into his arms. Adrien wiped a stray tear from Marinette’s cheek as she grinned tenderly up at him, “Why the tears love?”

“I’ve just never felt so happy before,” was the only answer that Marinette could coherently give without erupting into unintelligent cries of glee. He looked at her with a smile that lit up the room and made Marinette’s heart soar higher than she thought it could go. “Then here’s to a lifetime of happiness.”

“You may kiss the bride, Your Majesty.” The priest said quietly, the young couple almost caught unawares of the final act of their wedding ceremony. Adrien thanked him sheepishly before taking his wife’s face in his hands and kissing her with all the tenderness of a gentleman but the love of someone far more dear that Marinette could have hoped for. When they pulled apart, the crowd clapped once again, Marinette catching sight of Tikki sobbing next to Wayzz while Sir Tom clapped as hard as he possibly could from the front row beside them.

A servant came along side the newlyweds with two golden chalices, each of them taking one in kind while others were distributed throughout the mass gather to witness their special day. Adrien raised his glass as he looped one hand around Marinette’s waist, his voice echoing throughout the church.

“To a nation of equals.” He said, his glass held to the numerous different races gathered in the wedding guests, human, elf, ogre and giant alike. He then turned it to the side where Alya and Rose stood trying to keep it together with their own glasses in hand, Nino standing off to the side behind Alya with a grin. “To my good friends.”

Then he looked lovingly at Marinette, holding the goblet towards her with a soft smile. “And to my one true love, Marinette.”

The crowd echoed his toast and together they took drink from their glasses, Marinette and Adrien entertaining the arms together before taking a solidifying drink from each of their goblets. The crowd then dispersed among themselves, the servants moving about with food and refreshment for them to graze on as the service moved into the reception stage. Marinette moved to descend the steps to greet her own guests when Adrien tugged her back flush against him with a cheeky grin. She looked at him coyly. “What are you thinking.”

“Nothing.” He said as innocently as he could before pressing his forehead into her’s. “Only that I would really like another kiss from the lovely Queen Marinette Agreste.”

Marinette flushed a bright pink at her new title, but from the sheer bliss of knowing she was his, and he, hers. She looped her arms around his neck, making sure not to get caught on any of the refinery he had to wear for the ceramony. “Anything for you. King Adrien Agreste.”

_So, such is the story of Marinette of Frell,_

_a spunky young woman_

_once under a spell._

_lf there's one thing to learn,_

_it's you just can't go wrong_

_if you follow your heart_

_You’ll find where you belong_

_Now it's back to the real world,_

_all of you I must send,_

_for I've only two words left,_

_and they are: the end._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marinette fights back and we all get the happy ending we so RICHLY DESERVE. Next Tuesday's the Epilogue and then we can file this one under DONE! Tada!!!
> 
> As always, Follow me on other platforms for more art and madness!  
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shelbyecandraw/  
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> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Alyssa who catches all my mistakes and makes sure I can sentence properly.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment or a Kudos! Bonne Journée!


	25. Chapter 25

“Excuse me! Pardon me! Coming through!”

Servants narrowly dodged their king as he bolted past, desperate to get by as quickly as possible. The young man tripped and fell over himself too many times to count as he made a mad dash from his cabinet meeting to the opposite side of the castle where his wife would be waiting for him to arrive. He had quit his advisors the moment a servant girl had come in to tell him the news and he didn’t even bother with being cordial about abandoning those who helped to run his country. He had better things to do at that moment than deciding how much to tax the imports on tropical fruit at the harbor.

He cursed his robes and crown as they undertook a scheme to make him trip and fall as he climbed the stairs two at a time up to where he shared a bedroom with his wife. He panted, desperate for air as it scratched his hoarse throat, throwing open the double doors into the king’s sitting chambers with a loud thud. The servants bowed and scraped just like the others had as he flew past them, acting as if his disheveled and wide-eyed expression were as common as the sun rising every morning. He handed his stifling robe off to one of them, placing the crown on a nearby table before he crossed the room in a few well-placed strides to enter one of the adjoining rooms.

“Am I late?” He inquired, out of breath but incredibly delighted as his gaze rested on his young wife sitting by the window. Marinette smiled at him and giggled in a soft tone that made Adrien’s world go round. She rose from her seat to meet him where he recovered at the doorway, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. “When I sent Manon to get you, I didn’t expect you to come quite so quickly.”

“How could I not?” Adrien said holding Marinette close to him as he looked at the crib where he had once lay as a baby. “Today’s a very important day.”

He relinquished her to go and kneel by the crib with the most loving gaze possible as he watched the baby resting in it with a wondrous look on his face. “Today’s the day my son gets his gift.”

Adrien held out a tentative finger, watching in awe as his son, His Royal Highness Prince Hugo of Kyrria, wrapped his chubby finger around his father’s larger one. He was only three months old, and as far as Adrien was concerned, the most precious thing he would ever have, far more than gold or all the riches in the world. He could be a peasant in the slums and still find Hugo far better than a king’s ransom in precious stones.

Marinette gently combed through her husband’s hair as she watched them interact, listening to her son’s gentle coos as he babbled to his father. Hugo was a beautiful little boy, his hair dark like hers but with his father’s mint green eyes that seemed to look on everything with glee. She would never forget the way Adrien had run through the castle shouting in complete ecstasy to anyone who would hear that they were to have a child. It made her wonder if her own father had acted in much of the same way when her mother told him the news.

“Would you like to hold him?” Marinette asked quietly, smiling when Adrien looked at her with a puppy dog expression, like she could command the tide to rise and fall with her command. Adrien had held his son numerous times, he held Hugo before Marinette could after he was born, but still he acted as if every time was his first. Marinette lovingly stroked his hair one more time before she reached past him to cradle Hugo gently in her arms. He was quiet, looking up at his mother with green eyes like the new grass of the fields, as she cradled him close to her chest, waiting for Adrien to stand. He looked apprehensive, looking down at their child as if he could break him with the slightest touch, but she rested Hugo in his arms, making sure that he raised Hugo’s head, the largest grin broke out on his face.

He looked gleefully from his son to his wife before pressing a kiss into his wife’s forehead, Hugo giving a large yawn in his arms as he got comfortable. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Only every chance you get,” Marinette cooed, leaning her forehead against his as she gently swept her son’s wispy hair off of his forehead.

“Well, let me say it again,” Adrien said quietly. “I love you, Marinette.”

“I love you too, Adrien.”

There was a quiet rumble of thunder, and for a moment, Marinette feared that it might have been Plagg who would bestow her son’s gift. Then there was a rush of warmth in the room, red smoke curling and boiling forth on the balcony just outside Hugo’s nursery, the miasma giving way to a familiar freckled face with blazing red hair.

“Tikki!” Marinette cried, rushing away from her husband to throw herself at her long time friend. Tikki caught her, squeezing her favorite person as tight as could.

“Oh, Marinette,” the fairy crooned, holding her out at arm’s length so she could get a good look at her former ward. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Tikki! It’s been too long since you visited.” Marinette smiled, squeezing her friend’s hands tightly. “Where have you been?”

“Work,” Tikki groaned, though from the smile teasing at her lips, she wasn’t as unhappy about it as her voice gave away. “It’s kept me flying all over the country lately, so I haven’t had much down time.”

Marinette nodded, understanding her predicament. Tikki had served under her father as their house fairy for all of Marinette’s life, up until she moved out of the house and into the castle. Once Marinette was gone, Tikki left Sir Tom’s service to return to her original vocation as a gift-giving fairy, along with her long time boyfriend Wayzz now that he wasn’t trapped in a book. Then a thought dawned on her, looking from Tikki back to where Adrien stood patiently with her young son in his arms. “Wait, does that mean that you’re here to-“

“-bestow the best gift possible to your little one!” Tikki cried in ecstasy, looking at Adrien and Hugo with a bright smile spread across her pale cheeks. She pointed at Hugo cautiously, looking back at Marinette. “May I?”

Marinette nodded exuberantly. “Of course, go ahead.”

Tikki crossed the threshold cautiously, like someone creeping up on a young doe rather than a child that couldn’t walk on its own yet. Adrien smiled, holding out Hugo to he. Tikki took the infant prince into her arms with considerable care. She cradled him close, drinking in the small creature she held with a soft smile. “Oh, Mari…” she trailed off with a dreamlike voice, “He’s precious. He has your hair, and your eyes, Adrien. Congratulations.”

Adrien swelled with pride, becoming two inches taller as he held his shoulders back with a satisfied smile. “Thank you, Tikki.”

The gift-giving fairy nodded before looking at Hugo deep in thought, bouncing him lightly as she paced the room. Marinette and Adrien waited patiently, Adrien holding Marinette by the waist, pressing a gentle kiss into her temple as they waited for Tikki to decide what gift to give to their only child. She mused to herself more than to the awaiting parents, gently stroking Hugo’s cheek as he drifted off into fitful sleep.

“What should I give you…” she smiled, letting out a breathy laugh that made Hugo’s nose crinkle. “What can I give you that you don’t already have or will have as you grow? Happiness? You have the run of the house for that. Joy? Your lovely parents will make sure you never see a sad day.”

She mused for a moment more before letting out a giddy laugh, struck by sudden inspiration. “I know!”

She looked back at the child’s parents with a broad smile. “How about a cookie!”

Adrien looked at her in a bewildered manner while his wife burst out in a fit of laughter. As long as she could remember, Tikki’s solution for everything would always be a well-made cookie. Whenever Marinette was sad, Tikki would give her a cookie. She’d do the same thing whenever something worth celebrating happened too. It seemed like that was the only thing that Tikki was extremely good at.

Marinette shook her head as she laughed, long and hard. “Tikki, three-month-olds can’t chew cookies. He doesn’t have any teeth.”

Tikki’s smile waned at the logic being thrown in the face of her excitement. “Oh…” she said dejectedly before the smile appeared again, back at full force. “Then I will give him another gift. One almost as good as a cookie.”

“What gift could be so good?” Adrien asked, feigning awe as he grinned watching the scene unfold before him.

Tikki smiled, bringing Hugo back over to his parents so that they could witness his gift being bestowed. She held a finger over Hugo’s forehead and again a rush of warmth filled the room, all concentrating around a soft glowing light that bubbled at the end of her finger. The bright light awoke Hugo from his short nap so that he lay transfixed on the light held above him.

“Hugo Agreste, Prince of Kyrria,” Tikki recited lovingly, “I give you the gift of hope. Hope that will be forever at the front of your mind when times are tough, hope that encourages those around you to persevere. May you make your own light in the darkness and guide others with the hope that you provide.”

She slowly pressed the little light orb into the baby’s forehead with a gentle hiss, like air escaping in a soft sigh. Hugo’s forehead glowed softly before it faded completely, Marinette and Adrien watching the bestowal with inspired wonderment. Tikki smiled at Hugo thoughtfully, giving him a soft squeeze and rubbing her nose gently again the baby’s before handing him back to Marinette who had tears in her eyes.

“Thank you, Tikki,” She said softly, managing a watery smile at the fairy who did the same in return.

“You’re welcome, Marinette,” she said softly before turning to Adrien and managing a graceful curtsy. “Your Majesty.”

“Thank you, Tikki. Really, it’s a beautiful gift,” Adrien said appreciatively, looking down at his son and caressing his cheek. Tikki watched the little family for a moment more with a satisfied look before there was another puff of red smoke and she was gone, leaving Marinette, Adrien and their son Hugo to revel in the aftereffects of all that had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DA DUN! THE END! Thanks to everyone who's left such sweet (and silly) comments and kudos on this story! It was my first fanfic that I've actually posted and I hope to do more in the future - if time allows that is. I can't believe it's all done. Congrats everybody!!!
> 
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